


I hate you even more

by howveryfake



Category: Batman (Movies - Nolan)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-15
Updated: 2018-02-18
Packaged: 2018-11-14 09:53:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 25,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11205624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/howveryfake/pseuds/howveryfake
Summary: This is a sequel to "I hate you, too". It would probably be best if you read that story first. It's not that bad, trust me.





	1. High hopes in high skies

„Aw, crap“, I hear Jackson mutter under his breath as we approach the customs area at the airport. Even though I don’t get the opportunity to ask what’s wrong, I still find my answer immediately. No less than three young girls, each by herself and from different directions, steer towards Jackson, each of them wearing the same huge smile and hopeful eyes.

_“Jackson!”_

_“Sweetie!”_

_“Hey they big fella!”_

Three different greetings are shouted towards Jackson, and then a very awkward silence ensues as the three girls become aware of each other. A short blonde suspiciously eyes a taller blonde:

“Who are you?”, the short one gives the tall one a very nasty look.

“Who are _you_?!”, the tall one sassily raises her eyebrow at her shorter rival.

“I’m Jackson’s girlfriend, if you didn’t know by now..bitch.”, the short one is ready for a fight.

“Who are you calling bitch, you slut? And by the way, Jackson is _my_ boyfriend, so you better scram! Isn’t that so, Jackie?””, the taller one shoots daggers at the short one and in the same time, very hopeful looks at my remarkably calm son.

In the meantime, the third one, a very cute redhead, remains a few steps out of the way, obviously amused by the entire show and keeps on throwing dirty little smiles and the occasional wink at Jackson.

“Really, Jackson? Three girlfriends?”, I roll my eyes at him, “Go clear that mess up, _and quickly_. Our plane takes off in half an hour.”

He just shrugs his shoulders and rolls his eyes back at me, but doesn’t find it necessary to give me any explanation. However, I can see a slight smirk on his handsome face as he leaves to greet and hopefully calm down the girls.

I take a seat on a bench nearby and watch his tall figure approach the girls. Each of them talks to him, or better said, _at_ him, in the same time, and he somehow manages to calm the two blondes down and in the same time, wink back at the third one. I never really saw my son interact with girls before – I knew he had female _friends_ and that he had no problem getting a date. I thought it was because of his looks: Jackson is tall, athletic, with a head full of wild brown curls that reach his shoulders. His face is basically the same as his fathers. He’s sixteen now, and I met and fell in love with his father when he was sixteen. He’s almost the spitting image of his dad – save the scars, of course.

Anyway, I always thought that his good looks were enough to attract girls, but now I observe that Jackson has incredible charm. He twists the girls around his little finger, and soon enough, he’s able to shush the two blondes away, giving each of them a chaste kiss on the cheek (and I realize that the little shitter _is saving them for later_ ). As soon as they’re out of sight, he pulls the third girl towards him and kisses her unapologetically. I avert my eyes in embarrassment, especially as images of his father doing that very same thing _to me_ come to my mind. God, do I miss him. But hopefully, I’ll find him soon, and we’ll make up for the last 16 years that were robbed from us.

As we settle down for a very long flight from Zagreb via Frankfurt to Gotham, I feel uneasiness creeping up inside of me. What I am basically doing here is leaving my job without even giving a notice, leaving my apartment completely unattended, taking my kid to another continent, in the middle of school year no less, and all with the intent of finding a now very notorious criminal, and then staying illegally in the US with said criminal, in hopes to --- what? Continue where we left 16 years ago? All because of one photo containing a vague call for me? Oh, and not to mention the fact that I have a kid – _his kid_ \- that he has no idea about in tow. And, to make things more complicated, I haven’t got a clue how to find him. Just a few days ago I wasn’t even sure he was alive!

“Mom”, Jackson’s deep voice brings me back to reality.

“What is it, my little potato?”, I still use the term of endearment sometimes. When I delivered him, after 10 hours of unbelievable pain and effort, and they put him in my arms, he was so red and wizened, and his head was somehow uneven, so he reminded me of a potato. In the same time, he surely was the most wonderful and beautiful human being I have ever seen, and I cried happy tears over the little bundle of joy that I was given.

“He actually invited only you.”, he says matter-of-factly. That’s Jackson to you in private: he doesn’t waste words, he doesn’t make big preludes, he just comes right to the point. One would think that makes him cold or uncaring, but that’s far from the truth. The mere fact that he uttered that one simple sentence tells me he’s concerned about what we’re doing and he’s worried about his father’s reaction to him.

“You know that he doesn’t know about you”, I, Captain Obvious, reply. Jackson stays silent at that and I know that my answer was unhelpful, so I continue, albeit with a somewhat heavy heart, “Listen, Jackson. First of all, we’re in unchartered territory here. I know your father as a 16-year-old. He’s 33 now. Surely, he’s changed. So, it would be a lie if I told you that I’m sure that he’ll be delighted to find out about you. Truth is, I don’t know. I hope and I believe he will accept you.”

I sigh a bit before I continue, and in order to put an emphasis on what I’m about to say, I take his hand in mine.

“You’re my son and I love you more than anything and _anyone_. So, if I see that he does not accept you, or if you can’t accept him, we’re gone. We’re just gonna turn around and go home. Don’t ever doubt that: you’re first.”

“That’s ok, mom.”, he seems glad and a bit embarrassed in the same time. I see that I have said the right thing. When you have a kid who is so sparing on words, you tend to forget that some things still have to be said aloud.

“I have a few more things to say”, I sigh again. I’m leaving my comfort zone here. Namely, I have always tried to paint a bit nicer picture of Jack to his son. But, if things turn out as I hope they will, meaning that I will be able to find Jack, this means that Jackson will meet the unedited, raw and very real version of his dad. And the truth is that even I don’t know who Jack now is. The Joker persona he uses surely is more than terrifying, so I can’t really hope that he’ll turn into a puddle as soon as he sees me and junior.

“When we come to Gotham, you’ll stay in our hotel for a while. I mean, I’ll give you money so you can go and see the city, but I don’t want you to search for dad with me.”, I say and hope my voice bears enough authority.

“It’s not a good idea for you to wander around alone in such a city, mom”, Jackson frowns a bit.

“If I was able to handle that city when I was 16, I sure as hell can handle it now with my 32 years”, I smile at him, “And don’t forget, the toughest and scariest man there used to basically serenade me..and there was that time when I smashed his car…and then I threw a knife at him once..”

“Geez, mom, TMI”, Jackson rolls his eyes at my creepy memories.

And one other thing”, I say after a while. This is not easy to say for me, but I have to be fair towards my son. It’s high time he knows the truth, “I want to test waters with your father regarding you. Obviously, he’s changed..and not for the better. I want to make sure if he’s…reliable. Before I expose you to him,”

“ _Expose_ me? Is he radioactive or what?”, Jackson snorts a short laugh.

“Aw, potato head. You’ll understand when you meet him. Your dad is really something different.”, I shake my head as I wonder about the person my life is unbreakably linked with, “He’s strong. He’s tough. He’s fearless and cruel. He calls himself the Joker now, but from what I remember, there was nothing funny about him.”

“I can stand my ground”, Jackson is already in defensive mode. He has no bond with his father, and what I have just described sound like a person who he will have to fight.

“I know you can. And I count on that.”, I nod, because I feel there probably will be a huge clash between the two of them. They’re too much alike, and they won’t miss the opportunity for a proper pissing contest. On the other hand, I feel the need to ask him one thing once again, “You want this, right? You want to know who your father is? I don’t want to push you…especially because your dad is a bit..”

“Yeah, I know, I know. You warned me a thousand times already. Dad is weird. I googled him. Dad is a freaking psycho, mom, you know that? He’s really nuts. But I want to meet him. If I didn’t I wouldn’t be on this plane.”, Jackson rolls his eyes and then turns a bit after that, searching for a comfortable position for a nap, but the combination of his long limbs and the crammed seats offers no comfort whatsoever. He gives up after a few minutes, and turns back to me.

“So why did you hook up with him if he’s so cruel and weird and shit?”, he asks me.

“Oh. Well. First of all, I was very young and very stupid. And he was this tall, mysterious, scary but attractive guy..”, I blush a bit, “I was a teenager, I was pushing the boundaries. And then, when we actually started dating, I must say that to me, he was mostly tender…ok, he was an asshole for a few times, but I wasn’t much better, you know? Anyway, we clicked somehow, we really did. We loved eachother.”

“Hm. And you think he still loves you?”, Jackson curiously asks.

“Bah, I don’t know.”, a feeling of dread washes over me, “But he does feel something for me, he wouldn’t want me back if he didn’t.”

“You think he was loyal to you this whole time?”

_Whoa, this kid sure knows to ask hard questions._

“I highly doubt that.”, I honestly say, “At least, if you’re asking about sex. Surely he had some _fun_ during the last 16 years. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t keep a special place for me in his heart. Or maybe that’s just my definition of loyalty. I had my share of fun, but still, I didn’t make you call another guy ‘dad’, right?”

“Guess so”, Jackson nods, and finally his questioning session is over.

The rest of the flight we spend sleeping, eating crappy airplane food and watching movies. We both chose to watch “Dude, where’s my car” in the same time and we have a blast giggling at the stupid comedy. This helps me relax a bit and forget all the fears that I carry inside. Still, I am very aware that I’m taking the person most precious to me-my beautiful, intelligent son-to meet someone who possibly is dangerous for him. I sigh yet again, reminding myself that it would be awfully unfair to Jack to live his life without even knowing he has a kid. He is his father, after all. And Jackson, too, has the right to get to know his old man, and not to depend on my old stories and memories.

The pilot announces that we’re about to descend soon. The lights of Gotham are already visible in the distance.

“How on earth will you find him here?”, Jackson asks me as he’s looking out of the small plane window, “This city is _huge_.”

“I have an idea”, I smile lightly, “He knew how to call for me, and I know how to call for him. _He_ will find _me_.”


	2. Fakers gonna fake

The first thing he noticed is a new graffiti on a very long wall on the main street in the Narrows. It says “FAKERS GONNA FAKE, FAKE, FAKE, FAKE”. It takes him a second, and then he remembers how she saw to his cuts and bruises that time he just showed up at her house, bleeding from whatever job he just did. That was the first time she saw him half-naked, and he remembers how the way she looked at him gave him a murderous amount of _hope_ that she actually might have the hots for him. _Her hands trembled a bit as she touched the skin on my back, and I wished I had the guts to turn around and just kiss her silly_. But he still figured she’d probably be disgusted by the scars and whatnot. And then she started humming that stupid song, actually she just repeated a part of it, over and over again, about how “fakers gonna fake, fake, fake..”, and she was subconsciously - or even consciously - aiming at their unclear status that they had back then, their fake-dating.

His cell phone brings him back from his short trip down memory lane, and he makes an internal note to himself to check out the graffiti once more, as soon as he’s done with his current job. There’s something sketchy about that graffiti, and he’s not a big fan of believing in coincidences. Especially now that he finally called for her.

Leaving his heavy purple coat back in the car, he drops back casually into a comfortable chair he found on the rooftop that he has previously chosen as the perfect viewing spot for his latest show. He put a timer on the bomb hidden in the basement of the nearby factory, so he knows he has a few more minutes to relax and wait for the big boom. One of his more intelligent goons hands him the newspaper that he closely reads every day, and he immediately dives into the pages. He skips the sport sections and searches for more interesting topics, like the whereabouts of Gotham’s brave little mayor. However, his eyes are drawn to a little and very simple ad. It consists of one sentence, and once he reads it, he stops breathing for a few seconds:

“I’m waiting for my fake boyfriend.”

This can’t be a coincidence.

He gets up and leaves his goons behind. The factory explodes, and this time, it is not followed by his legendary chilling laughter.

 

…

 

I sit down in my car and my mind’s buzzing. _Is that it? Is that really her? She saw my message, and she understood, and she actually complied? She’s here? No wait, where is she? She says she’s waiting for me, that’s what the message says..it could only be her old place, her aunt’s house. If that’s true, she’s up for a surprise…_

I start driving toward her aunt’s house, although it hasn’t been her aunt’s house for a while now. Now, it’s mine. As soon as I, uhm, _left_ the lovely hellhole called Arkham and got myself some money, I bought if off her. It was a bargain, to be honest. That old bat couldn’t be bothered with the house anyway. But to me, that house meant a lot…it was _our_ _place_. And ever since, in that rare moments I longed for familiarity and solace, this is where I went.

It’s not like I made a shrine out of it. It’s not like my life after Sonja and I were separated by force was spent completely.. _alone_ , catch my drift? I had a number of woman..quite a few. But I never took any of those ladies back to our place.

But this is no occasion to think about other women.

I slowly drive by _my_ house, and I spot an empty rental car parked nearby.

The house seems empty, but still, I have this nagging feeling…there! I saw a shadow passing by one of the windows. _Somebody_ is in the house. At least I _think_ I saw someone move in there.

It’s evening, so I don’t bother taking of my _face_ or doing anything else to conceal my identity. This is Gotham, people don’t pay attention to anyone. Sometimes I wonder for how long I could stroll down the busiest street in Gotham in the middle of the day before someone realizes it’s good ol’ Joker who they bump into.

I slowly open the door and take a peek inside. _So much dust…_

The hallway is empty. The kitchen is empty. The living room is empty.

It’s funny how each time I enter these rooms, memories flood all over me. I can’t seem to keep my focus. Usually I’m better at this. Tracking people, I mean. Now, I just have the feeling that someone’s here, but I don’t really look for clues like I usually would. I stop for a moment in the middle of the corridor and run my gloved hands through my hair.

I hear steps. Someone’s coming out of the bedroom. _Or is it all in my head?_

I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m so slow in my reactions ever since I read that one sentence.

_I’m waiting for my fake boyfriend._

I usually would be pulling out my knife by now. Instead I’m looking at a pair of sensible beige pumps. My eyes keep on traveling up. Slender legs, a beige pencil skirt. Lovely little waist. A black blouse, showing just a little bit of cleavage.

And then. That lovely face framed by a few strands of her chestnut hair that escaped a typical mum-bun. Her eyes, staring right at me.

It’s her. It’s Sonja. _It’s not my imagination._

She doesn’t utter a word as she takes me in. I, too, can’t find any words, neither am I trying to find them at all. From the initial moment of pure joy of seeing her, I feel myself dropping mentally to the level of a very hungry and irritated animal.

_Something’s different about her. Something significant._

I don’t want anything different. I want _Sonja_.

She still stares at me, as if she’s not sure whether to be happy or scared, and she barely manages to let out a little shriek as I charge at her. Suddenly, I feel like I have to make things right again. I have to find what’s different and change it back. I kiss her hard and ungently, and I feel satisfied when I feel her kissing me back with the same enthusiasm. Still, something’s off. Is it the way she smells? Like.. _too much perfume or body lotion or whatever it is women put on themselves…she should smell like me. She should reek of me, so that any other man knows that this one is not only taken, but taken by ME._

_I need to make her mine once again._

I push us through the bedroom door and shove her on the bed. She lands on the bed and almost rolls off of it. She shoots me a nasty look for it and I smirk a bit at her as I practically tear my clothes from my body. _Why the hell do I wear so many layers of clothes?!_

Soon enough, I’m completely naked, and so is she, expect for a pair of very silly knickers. She must have recognized the look of determination and destruction on me, because she waves her arms in defeat and yells:

“Don’t! I’ll take ‘em off, ok?”

“Atta girl”, I already support my weight over her as she discards the underwear and willingly spreads her legs for me.

_Funny how our first conversation after so many years is about her panties._

And then I lower myself into her.

_It’s home, it’s home again._

I nuzzle my face between her chin and shoulder and lick and bite whatever I can. I wish I had ten arms so I could touch her everywhere in the same moment. I feel her hands traveling hungrily all over me and I enjoy her wetness and her moans. Half of my _face_ is already smeared all over her breasts.

“Oh, Jack”, she moans in one moment.

“Joker”, I manage to correct her.

“No, _Jack_!”, her eyes fly open and she stares at me angrily, “And would you stop getting that smelly paint all over me!”

I laugh as I fuck her. That’s _my_ _Sonja_. Fucked by the Joker and still she thinks she can order around. I give her an extra sloppy kiss for that and make sure to get as much paint as possible on her face.

“Ewww!”, she pushes me away, and I’m having none of that. I flip her over on her knees and quickly slap her butt a few times, hard enough for her behind to instantly start glowing a lovely shade of red. She yelps and tries to turn and smack me, but I hold her tightly by her waist and plunge into her with renewed fervour. The angry expression on her face vanishes and is soon enough replaced with lust.

“Did you pine…did you pine for your fake boyfriend?”, I ask her as I pull at her hair, effectively bringing her face closer to mine, still fucking her in a rough rhythm.

“I did..I missed you so much, Jack”, she answers, immediately knowing what I was referring to.

“So why do I have the feeling that things have changed?”, I say more than I ask, and I’m a bit startled to realize that she froze to these words.

“What. Are you. _Hiding_. From me?”, my voice becomes nasal, and I have to remind myself that _she’s not my victim_ , but I flip her over yet again, immediately entering her anew, and now I watch her face from just a few centimetres away. I don’t want to miss even the slightest expression on her face. I was always able to read her like a book.

“I’m not hiding anything”, she obviously lies. In the same time, I feel how she clenches her muscles down there, _on purpose_ , to distract me.

“Liar”, I say as I push hard into her, and my hand travels around her neck, giving her a warning, “Tell me. Tell me _now_.”

“I will tell you when the time’s right”, she rolls her eyes defiantly, but I see a bit of fear in them, too, and I’m _glad_.

“You will tell me now.”, I say darkly, and the combination of her fear and her defiance somehow arouses me even more, so I start another round of punishing pounding. This makes her moan and yell, trying to push me off and get me closer in the same time.

“Tell me!”, I choke her a bit, and she obviously has had it. From what I remember, she always liked it rough, but there was this fine line, and if I passed it, all fun and games was _over_. I guess this hasn’t changed, because out of nowhere, her fist collides with my nose, and although she didn’t break it, it’s enough to blind me for a second. She uses that second well, since she pushes her legs between us and shoves me hardly at my chest. I find myself flying from the bed and, very ungracefully, landing on the floor.

“You’ll pay for this”, I promise her as I try to get up, but she’s already on her feet, standing right above me.

“We’ll see about that”, she says with a small smile on her lips, and then she slowly lowers herself down, straddling me. I’m still hard, and she’s wet, and sure enough, we continue where we were before our little.. _miscommunication_.

I look at her, at how beautiful she is, at how little she’s changed, and yet how different she is. I still can clearly feel the change that surrounds her, and I feel like _her loyalty is somehow divided_ , and it drives me _crazy_. There is something warm, and soft, and loving about her, and I feel like it’s not entirely for me. I am a selfish, selfish man, and I want this woman for myself, completely and only for _me_. I will definitely do this time what I should have done the last time, and that is to hide her, keep her safe somewhere where no fucking cops and authorities can find her, somewhere where I’ll have her all for myself – but I feel, no, I can _smell_ something on her, something that will stand in my way.

Or is that _something_ maybe a _someone_?

The thought or some other man, a _rival_ , drives me crazy with jealousy. She’s mine, and she needs to be reminded of it.

I grab her and, after a quick wrestle, I have her on all fours again, pounding into her. The way she presents her lush bottom to me and practically invites me to take her as hard as I want tells me that she doesn’t really mind my manhandling that much.

“You’re mine, you know that?”, I growl in her ear.

“Yours”, she pants between moans.

“Only mine.”, I say and pull at her hair for good measure, and I know that she loves when I do that. Soon enough I feel her explode under me and I follow immediately, spilling deeply into her and roaring my release out for the entire world to hear.

We lie on the bedroom floor after, and she immediately finds her spot on my shoulder. Just like two silly teens, we share a cigarette. Still, I can’t forget that she owes me a confession, so I promise her darkly, “…and whoever you’re hiding…is done. I’ll crush his scull with my bare hands.”

She jumps at that as if I had thrown boiling water all over her. She doesn’t say a word, but just stares at me, and I realize she’s calculating what to say and how to say it.

“So there _is_ another man in your life?”, I look at her sharply.

“A _man_ , hah!”, she snorts an amused little laughter at that, as if startled from deep thought.

“Yes, a man.”, I repeat in irritation, and the I add in my most intimidating voice, “A dead man walking.”

“Don’t say that!”, she looks at me in horror and now I’m really confused.

“What else do you expect?”, I wonder if she’s gone a bit stupid in her head in the last 16 years. This entire conversation makes me _angry_. I’m finally reunited with the girl I missed for years, and now that we’re together, we’re wasting time on talking about her other man?!, “Why would you come to me and be loyal to _him_?!”

And then, as I said that last sentence, it’s like something fell from my eyes, something that hindered me to see things clearly. I see that her protecting that someone is an act of pure love and loyalty, but not lust. I see that I was right: her loyalty _is_ divided. My eyes wander to her naked belly, and I can see very faded small lines on it.

“You have a child.”, I say, and something in me breaks a bit, because that not only means that a huge part of her love is wasted on some brat, instead of _me_ , but also, that she is forever connected through this kid with some other man - the father of the child.

Her silence is answer enough.

I feel her eyes on me and I realize I haven’t said a word for a long time. She looks at me with expectation.

“If you’re really thinking I’m gonna ask you about your toddler, you’re kidding yourself.”, I huff. Really, I never was good with children. And _especially now_. I’m not going to look at photos at some other man’s kid. I don’t know what to do with this whole thing, anyway. How can I make this work, with keeping her and somehow getting rid of the kid?

“He’s not a toddler, Jack”, she tells me slowly, and then she continues after a minute, “He’s sixteen, you know.”

I look at her because she said that last sentence in an important tone, and I just think about _what the hell do I care how old the brat is_ and then..oh. _Oh_.

“Sixteen?”, I ask and something deep inside of me moves.

“Sixteen.”, she nods, and the idea of the brat being _mine_ is becoming more and more real by the second.

“Sixteen.”, I repeat and I want to ask her, to make sure, but I don’t have the strength. I feel as if my insides are made of glass that will shatter any moment.

“His name is Jackson”, Sonja says, and I do something I haven’t done in a long, long time. I let one single tear trail down my cheek.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there!! First of all, sorry for the late update-I wanted to update this Tuesdays or Wednesday latest! And then I got a ton of crap work thrown at me and I simply didn't have enough time to write. Actually, in one moment I did, but I had zero inspiration, which drove me crazy, because I knew exactly what I wanted to say, but it kept on coming out wrong, so I gave up for that day.  
> Second, thank you so much on your more than great reactions to the sequel! I was so happy to see you guys liked it, and I hope I'll manage to continue the story in the same fashion.  
> Third, if you guys are always on the look-out for good Joker fanfiction, like me, I would like to recommend NostalgicDemise (on Ao3), who writes extraordinarily great Joker origin stories! What or who do you guys recommend??  
> Fourth and last- please let me know how you liked the chapter!


	3. Staring and glaring

It's almost like looking at a mirror image, the way they are standing and glaring at each other.

As soon as Jackson enters the room, I feel a wave of nervous energy emanating from Jack. He quickly gets up on his feet and his eyes narrow into two slits as he takes in the sight of his youngster for the first time. His body is slightly bent forward, and he reminds me of a predator ready for attack.

Jackson, on the other hand, leans on the doorframe and lets his eyes wander over the tall figure of his father. I know Jackson well, so I know he’s putting on an act of being cool and not that impressed. I know that inside, meeting Jack makes him nervous as hell.

The silence is deafening and I can’t believe that none of them has uttered a word yet. I didn’t expect them to fall into each other’s arms. But I also didn’t expect the air to be charged with open hostility. I desperately try to think of anything to say, something neutral in order to soothe the situation, but my son beats me to it.

“I thought you wear make-up”, Jackson says a bit dismissively. Just a bit, to act as if he doesn’t really care, but still neutral enough not to really provoke this strange man that is supposed to be _daddy_.

“You _mother_ made me take it off”, Jack replies with a hint of bitterness to it. It is true, I did demand of him to take the bloody thing off. First of all, I wanted to _see_ him. I missed his face and all the little things about it for too long, and I wouldn’t be denied by anything or anyone. Second of all, I didn’t want my son’s first impression of dad to be _disturbing-_ ok, make that as less disturbing as possible, given the special circumstances of our specific case. Jack and I fought about it for a while, and our argument – as most of our arguments tend to – ended with pretty wild quickie, with me bent over the kitchen table. Only after that did he finally agree to take the grease paint off. _This one time._

Jackson rolls his eyes and smiles a bit, as if agreeing that I am bossy. I raise my brow a bit at that, but refrain from commenting. If they’re going to bond over me being bossy and commandeering, so be it.

“She thought it would offend your sensibilities”, Jack taunts the kid, and the smile instantly vanishes from Jackson’s handsome face.

“What took you so long, I called you two hours ago?”, I ask Jackson before he has the chance to snap back at his father. I really don’t want them to fight, not when they just met.

“…I had company.”, he slumps carelessly on a nearby couch.

“What company? You don’t know anyone in Gotham and I left you alone for less than a day in the hotel?”, I realize that my voice has gone from normal to almost yelling by the end of the sentence.

“I went to grab a burger, and I met this girl, and then, you know..”, he does a little circle with his hand in the air, as if that explains anything.

I drop my jaw, and I realize that I need to have a very serious talk with my son, who is taking some real liberties, but Jack, of course, thinks this is _very funny._

“That’s the spirit! You don’t waste any time. I like that. _Son._ ”, Jack actually smiles proudly at his son, but there is still something creepy about the whole interaction, and he called Jackson ‘son’ in a rather mocking tone, “Was she any good? Was she a looker?”

“Jack!”, I’m completely mortified, “Don’t _encourage_ him!”

“..it was a _girl_ , right?”, Jack ignores me completely.

“Yeah, _this time_ it was a girl, _dad_ ”, Jackson fires back and smiles a very nasty smile. Jack frowns and shoots me questioning looks, and I just shake my head and roll my eyes, indicating that Jackson is not being serious. As far as I know, at least.

A very uncomfortable silence falls over the three of us. For a while, Jackson pretends to be busy with his phone, and Jack and I keep on shooting angry glances at each other, trying to make the other remedy the situation. I feel a strong urge to try to make things right myself, but I keep on reminding myself that Jack is actually an adult person, a grown man of 33 years, and Jackson is not a kid anymore, as well, but a very stubborn and intelligent young man. They should be able to figure this out themselves, without me hovering over them. With this in mind, I get up and announce that I’m going to make something for us to eat. None of them makes a sound as I leave the room.

 

…

 

A few minutes after mom’s gone, I hear him clearing his throat in that very obvious kind of way. I lazily look at him, knowing it would irritate him even more. I don’t know where this defiance is coming from, I don’t know where this instant dislike is coming from. I just know that something about him both irritates me and fascinates me in the same time.

I look at him, glaring at me, and I wonder if it is because he’s too young. I mean, dads are supposed to be these smiley older guys with a funny beer belly, and a moustache, barbequing on weekends and telling awful pun jokes-right? He’s _nothing_ like that. He’s fit, he sharp, he seems..dangerous. He seems like that weird friend that you have who’s not really a friend. Like that guy that years later you hear about has killed someone or stuff like that.

Except, this guy.. _daddy_..he actually has killed. A bunch of people. And for no real reason.

And aren’t dads supposed to be all warm and loving and whatnot? Why the fuck is mine glaring at me like I’m poison?

“I can’t believe you’re my dad”, I blurt out, and I feel instantly ashamed because I sound like the typical whiney teenager.

“At least you knew you had a dad”, he falls back in the couch, still glaring at me, “Just yesterday, I didn’t even know I had a son.”

“Sorry to disappoint”, I obviously can’t help but to sound like some drama bitch today.

“I didn’t say that, but keep up this pussy attitude..”, he rolls his eyes.

“…or what, you won’t take me fishing?”, I roll my eyes back at him.

“Or I won’t take you to my next bank robbery”, he answers and I quickly look at him to see if he’s joking, and his face is blank. _Holy shit_.

We keep quiet for a while, and I actually am curious about him, but I don’t want to show it by asking questions. At least not questions about him.

“So..”, I look at him, trying to seem relaxed about it, “What about mom?”

“Who..?”, it takes him a second to realize that _Sonja_ is mom, “Ah, Sonja. It’s weird to hear someone calling her that. So, what about her?”

“I dunno…”, I’m not sure how to ask this, but basically I want to know what is going on with the two of them, “Are you like..together now?”

“Bah, kid, what do I know…guess so?”, he shrugs his shoulders, and he honestly seems a bit unsure about this.

“Well, do you want to be with her?”, I continue, “I mean, will you guys live together now or what?”

“Geez, what’s with the questions?!”, he’s getting irritated all over again.

“I mean, are we just visiting or…what? Are we moving here? Where we’re gonna live?”, I keep on pestering him, and it amuses me a bit to press his buttons, “Do you _love mom_? Will you _take care of us_?”

“Jesus Christ, kid, shut the fuck up!”, he finally yells at me.

“Well, _dad_ , these are the things you should know!”, I yell back at him.

“Are you always so annoying?!”, he gets up quickly and his eyes search the room, as if he’s looking for something to smash into pieces.

“Are you always in such a foul mood?”, I ask him back.

“You know what, you little shit”, he takes a few steps towards me and leans over, getting his face closer to mine, “When and if you learn to know me…you’ll know this is me in my _good_ mood. I’m actually trying to be nice here..so don’t fuck this up.”

And I react as I usually do when I’m provoked. I just can’t get over it. I’m on my feet in and instant, and I’m very glad to discover we’re pretty much the same height. I get even closer to him and look him straight in the eyes.

“ _Or what?_ ”, I ask him in a silent and very provoking whisper.

“Or I will show you what happens to people who get to deal with me when I’m in a bad mood”, he says, and there’s something about the tone of his voice that makes the hairs on my neck stand up. I take a little step back, and he smirks at my defeat. I refuse to break eye contact for a while, so we just stand there, in a bizarre staring contest.

“What’s going on here?”, I hear mom’s voice and feel a shameful amount of relief. We keep on staring at each other for a few more seconds and then both turn to look at her in the same time.

“Nothing”, I lie.

“I’m hungry”, Jack informs her.

“We have chicken, French fries and broccoli. I couldn’t find anything better in the fridge.”, she says, but her eyes keep on dancing between the two of us. She knows that things are very tensed between _Dad_ and I. She sighs a bit, knowing she can’t really do much about it, and then looks at Jack, “We’ll need to go grocery shopping.”

“Do you want to go shopping with cash in hand, or do you want the fun sort of shopping?”, he asks her in a clowny voice, and to my surprise, mom smiles a very girly smile at him.

“What’s the fun sort of shopping?”, she asks him in a voice that sounds…seductive? _Eww_.

“Well, you’ll be accompanied by _yours truly_ , and a few selected _friends,_ and we'll all have guns and you'll take whatever you like FOR FREE!“, he finishes the sentence like he's starring in some kind of commercial.

„Yeah, I'd prefer the kind of shopping where nobody gets shot or arrested at the end“, mom actually _laughs._

„Ah! You're no _fun_! Except..“, and his hand travels down her waist and I realize they totally forgot about me standing just a few feet away.

„Please, before I throw up..“, I murmur as I make my way to the kitchen.

I actually hear them _giggle_ behind my back.

 

 


	4. Betrayed

It's evening and Jackson's has called it an early night. He retreats to a room on the upper floor he declared “his”. It’s basically empty, with one sad looking mattress on the floor and a few old boxes filled with God-knows-what. I have to talk to Jack about buying some furniture. However, the question of furniture is linked with the question _where we will actually live_ , and that question is furthermore linked with the question about _if we will live together_ at all. So, having in mind that the getting my son a decent bed could result in being separated from his father- _again_ , I am a bit hesitant to address that topic.

It's stupid, really. Ever since I lied my eyes on Jack again, just a couple of days ago, when he so quickly responded to the trail of bread crumbs I have put all over Gotham, I have mentally and emotionally travelled back to my 16-year self. I’m helplessly in love with Jack, and even this off-putting Joker persona he sometimes uses can’t scare me away. As if I never have left, I find my place by his side, nestled under his arm when we sit on the couch, splayed all over his side when we sleep in bed. My gut feeling tells me that this is it, for the long run: we’re an item. However, my 32-year-old motherly side needs a bit more security than that. No matter how desperately I want to wrap myself around Jack and never let go, my priority still is Jackson. If he decides that he can’t stand his father, I will have to do what’s best for him. But boy, he’ll have to actually not only clearly tell it, but yell it!

Jack’s long arms immediately wrap around me as I exit the bathroom, and I smile and kiss him on the nose. His eyes twinkle mischievously and a light smile graces his lips. He took that damned grease paint off, but there are still traces of it on his jaw line, accentuating his handsome features.

“Stop it”, I roll my eyes and try to wrestle my way out of his arms.

“What? I wasn’t doing anything!”, he laughs a bit as he effortlessly blocks my attempts to leave, and also pinches my butt repeatedly.

“You’re giving me that look…”, I giggle as he dives his nose into my hair and starts sniffing like some crazed dog.

“What look…”, he asks knowing very well what look I’m talking about, “I was just…checking out the shampoo you’re using. I’m searching for a new scent for myself, you see..and this, hmm, _strawberry_ you use might just be the thing for me”!

The idea of the almighty Joker breaking into banks and threatening people’s lives all while a delicious strawberry smell waffles all around him makes me laugh out loud. He laughs, too, his exploring hands never leaving my body.

“Ok, ok…I’ll let you use my shampoo, how about that?”, I giggle, and then my eyes fall to a newspaper that is carelessly thrown on the floor. It’s just a few days old. My eyes widen in surprise, “Is that..Rachel?”

He immediately lets me go, and I pick up the newspaper with Rachel’s pretty face printed on the front page. My initial smile at seeing my old friend after so many years quickly falters as I read the head title “Assistant DA dead” and a smaller one, “Joker’s newest victim”.

“Jack?!”, I stare at him in disbelief, “Did you do that? Did you kill Rachel?”

“I sure did”, he nods his head, his facial features now calm and serious.

“Why would you do that? She was my friend, don’t you remember?”, I take a step back from him, hurt and even a bit scared. _I always act under the presumption that he is normal and reasonable. But he isn’t._

“Oh, Sonja”, he snorts a bitter and short bark of a laugh, “She wasn’t. She sure as hell wasn’t your friend.”

I just stand there, trying to understand what’s going on. He takes my hand and pulls me towards our bedroom, and completely ignores the slight resistance I’m giving him.

“You have no idea…no idea at all”, he sighs as I sit on our bed, throwing him accusing looks, “Just sit there and listen for a while, ok? And then judge me, if that’s what you want.”

He lies down on our bed, without touching any part of my body. He inspects his hands for a while and smiles lightly as I start showing my impatience by tapping my hand on my knee.

“Did you ever wonder how the cops found us?”, I hear his raspy voice behind my back.

“Not really. We were young and stupid. We should have moved to another place. Off course the address where I was registered would be the first place they would check. We were basically sitting ducks.”, I say in a demure tone.

“ _Ah!_ Talk for yourself!”, he lets out a short laugh, which annoys me.

“What do you mean-you got caught along with me!”, I turn to him, rolling my eyes.

“Yes. But- _t_ …I knew back then that they would check this place out first…so I pulled a few connections and actually changed your residence. And, of course, at that other address I had some people who were paid to tell the cops that you moved to Atlanta, with your aunt.“

“But…I was here, with you. So, they would check Atlanta and probably come back here, right?”, I feel like I’m missing something.

“Of course, they would. But thing is, as soon as they would check your whereabouts in Gotham at your ‘new address’, those guys there would give me a heads-up. We would be gone in the next hour, and the cops would have no idea where to go from then on.”, he smiles, remembering his crude, but effective plan.

“So, what? Your guys didn’t give you a heads-up, then?”, I wonder.

“They didn’t..because the cops never came to their place.”, his smile becomes cold, “Even though your official residence was on the other side of town, they still came here, knowing they would find us here.”

“But _how_?”, I ask, but a terrible suspicion start to waken inside of me. Jack looks at me with his intelligent eyes, and he nods as he recognizes the realization and the disappointment in me.

“Yes, yes”, he nods fervently, “Your _great friend_ Rachel. Apparently, you told her about our little plan of you not returning to Croatia and staying with me. And your friend Rachel, and her lover boy Wayne, they decided that such a good girl should not be wasted on such a scumbag like me. In their opinion, our time was _over_.”

I fall silent, realizing the horrible mistake I made 16 years ago. I shouldn’t have trusted Rachel. Jack used to warn me about it, but I didn’t listen. I just wanted to have a female friend, someone to share my secrets with.

“Are you sure?”, I ask quietly, “Rachel knew how much I loved you. I mean, we spent hours talking about our relationship and everything…she knew that I would be miserable without you. She wouldn’t hurt me so..would she?”

“Oh, she would”, Jack says angrily, “She would. And she had encouragement from Wayne. He always hated my guts, so he took care to persuade her, if that was even necessary...”

“But how do you know about all of that?”, this whole thing still doesn’t make sense to me.

“Here’s the whole story”, he sighs, shaking off his apparent anger and finds a more comfortable position, and that is with me under his arm, “So, when the cops got us…and _separated us_ …I got beat up..like rarely in my life..senseless. _Anyhow_. I woke up in white room, chained to a bed..I thougth it was a hospital, but it turned out it was an _asylum_.”

“Arkham, I know”, I take his hand and give it a little kiss.

“How _in hell_ do you know that?”, he is truly surprised.

“Long story. I searched for you..I will tell you later”, I smile at him and then demand, “Continue.”

“Hmm…Arkham. _Lovely place._ You get regularly beaten up and they feed you the _funniest medication_.”, he sighs, pretending as if he is remembering something nice, “Some of those meds, they changed something in me, you know? You can literally feel yourself coming apart. You can feel yourself becoming _insane_.”

I shiver a bit at that and look at him with easy readable questions in my eyes. He laughs in a way that doesn’t really help that much, but I also have this small feeling that he is trying to scare me a bit, just to keep me in line.

“So, between getting beat up and going crazy, they still leave you some quality alone-time, and I used that time to _think_ ”, Jack continues, his handsome face bearing a telling smirk. _That dork was really trying to intimidate me. Successfully._ , “Not that it took me long to realize what happened. You know I never liked your _friends_. And after two years, when I got out, I asked in a few favours and actually got a copy of the police interview with sweet Rachel and brave Bruce. Hah! She actually claimed to be protecting your best interest, and he pinned the craziest stories on me.”

I feel anger bubbling inside of me, because I start to realize what Rachel and Bruce have actually done to us.

“Sixteen years”, I say, numbly, “They made us lose sixteen years. I didn’t know if you were alive or not. If you were still in that terrible place, Arkham. You missed Jackson being born, his first steps, his first word…he was such an adorable baby, Jack!”, I start crying, sadness assaulting every cell in my body, “I was so scared! And so lonely! If it weren’t for Jackson…I wouldn’t have made it. And all this pain and misery..because of those two jerks who think they can decide on how someone’s supposed to live their life! Our Jackson grew up fatherless because of them!”, now I sob, and then a though hits me like a ton of bricks, “Where were _you_?! If you got out after two years-why didn’t you search for me? Why did you leave me alone?! Why did you wait so long to call for me..??”

“Sonja, I would have searched the fucking world to find you!”, I feel his hands around my shoulders and he shakes me a bit to get me to snap out of it, “The police file, about our case – you know how I had it brought to me to see who ratted on us - contained a note, saying that you’re deceased. Some car accident, just a few months after you came back to Croatia. So I thought you were _dead_! And then, years after, I’m eavesdropping on these lawyers, and they talk about what sorts of files are admissible and what can and _can’t_ be part of a police file. And I remember how strange that note seemed, about your death, so I broke in the police archive, and checked the files yet again…the note disappeared. It was obviously put in there to keep me from searching for you.”

“When did you find out that I’m alive?”, I ask him, my nose running, embarrassingly.

“That was a few years ago-“, he starts, but I cut him off immediately,

“Few YEARS ago?!”

“I wanted you to come when the time was right”, he shrugs his shoulders.

“What does that even mean?!”

“It means, once I’m done killing every single bastard responsible for causing me not to know that I have a son. For sixteen bleeding years.”, he says darkly, “Once I have this corrupt city in my grip and start squeezing it mercilessly. Once I have all I need to be sure that _this time, I get to keep you, forever_.”

“So, I’m early, then?”, I actually smile a bit through my tears.

“Come again?”, he rises an eyebrow at my question.

“Well, as far as I know…Bruce Wayne is still alive.”, my smile broadens, and I feel something evil bloom inside of me, and I welcome it with open arms.

“ _That’s the spirit_ ”, Jack joins my malicious smile and leans in to kiss me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there, I hope you like the new chapter-this pretty much sums up the past, and from now on, we're turning over to future events, with a heavy focus on Jackson as well as the relationships in the crazy little Napier family :) How about I get them a dog?


	5. The fire

It's pretty late, and I'm feeling all cozy and sleepy, snuggled in my bed, reading a book. Jackson's asleep upstairs, and Jack's up and about the city, letting the Joker do his thing. I feel tired enough to sleep, but I know there is no point in trying to do so - for the last few nights, I kept on rolling and shifting around, in and out of sleep, until the moment I heard Jack’s steps and felt the mattress give under his weight. Only then, I was able to let myself go and fall into deep sleep.

This night is no different, with the exception that Jack is a bit earlier home than expected, and I’m happy for it. He quickly gets rid of his clothes, and very sloppily removes his make-up, using a towel for it (and ruins it for sure), and he cheekily laughs as I roll my eyes in annoyance at his lacking manners.

“I’m sorry…I’ll use that thing you’ve got me next time…what is it called?”, he crashes into our bed next to me, “Molecular water by Gardenia..?”

“Micellar water by Garnier”, I huff and he laughs out loud. He’s teasing me about it for days now, and I only suggested that he could take his make up off in a way that is not only a lot less messy, but also good for the skin. He thought, and apparently still thinks, that my suggestion is a hilarious joke, and ever since, he keeps on finding the most annoying ways how to take off his makeup. Just last night, he used my shirt. While I was still wearing it!

I try to come up with something clever to say, when a loud thud coming from upstairs is heard. I immediately jump up in bed, eyes wide.

“Jack! Did you hear that?”, I hiss.

“Yeah, I and the rest of the street, too…”, Jack’s completely unimpressed.

“What do you mean…hush! I can hear someone walking upstairs!”, I’m in full panic mode, “Jack, the kid is upstairs and someone’s broken in, DO SOMETHING!”

“What do you want me to do?”, he looks at me blankly, in mocking surprise.

“I don’t know..make them go away!”, I whisper-yell at him.

“Oh, you wouldn’t be happy if I did that”, he waves me off.

“Would you stop with the stupid jokes!”, I’m on my feet and grab one of Jack’s knifes which he left on my night drawer. _If he’s not doing something about this, I am. Our son is up there!_

“Oh, I _gotta_ see this”, Jack giggles as he follows me out of our bedroom and up the stairs. I’m a bit frightened as I do my best to silently and quickly master the stairs, but I’m also confused by Jack’s relaxed stance-obviously, he knows something I do not. Or is it that he is so familiar with killing and fighting that a home invasion is like a walk in the park to him?

The upper floor of our house is ridiculously small, it’s basically just that one room that Jackson uses and one even smaller one that is filled with all sorts of old furniture and other crap. I’ve been meaning to throw all of it out and redecorate that room for myself. Anyway, the window in the small hallway is closed and locked, and I don’t even bother with the smaller room because its window is not only shut but hammered with boards, and this leaves me only with Jackson’s room.

I stand in front of it in complete silence, for a few seconds, listening for any sounds, and then Jack pinches my ass, which startles me so that I let out a little shriek. In the same time, the door is opened wide, and in the darkness, all I see is a dark silhouette of a man, and I let out another terrified yell, and in my clumsiness, I drop the knife. Jack compliments me with one of his crazy laughs, and suddenly, the lights are one and I’m confronted with a very annoyed Jackson, staring down at me.

“Koji kurac radiš?!”, he yells (“ _What the fuck are you doing?_ ”).

“Krumpiriću!”, (“ _Little potato!_ ”), I yell in relief as I throw my arms around my son, but in the next second, I pull him by the ear, “Ne psuj! Sram the bilo!” (“ _Don’t swear! You should be ashamed!_ ”)

“Oprosti, mama”, (“ _Sorry, mom_ ”), he grumbles, “Al fakat, kaj radiš?” (“ _But really, what are you doing?_ ”)

“Guys, could you, uhm…refrain from speaking Russian..you’re not being _polite_ ”, God forbid Jack would be excluded from anything for even one second.

“We came upstairs to check on you, we heard a noise, it sounded like we had an intruder”, I switch to English.

“Yeah, I…I stumbled a bit. That’s all.”, Jackson says but averts his eyes from me. _He’s lying._

“Što skrivaš?”, (“ _What are you hiding?_ ”), suddenly, I’m in full detective-mode.

“Ništa.”, (“ _Nothing_.”), Jackson rolls his eyes, but still avoids looking at me. I sniff around him, not knowing really what I do, and then I catch a whiff of something sweet-like a girl’s perfume, and then, I realize that his window is wide open. I look back at him and only then I realize that my dear son is sporting a plum-sized hickey on his neck.

“Tu smo, druškane.” (“ _Here we are, buddy._ ”), I sigh angrily.

“Ma daj, mama” (“ _Come on, mom_ ” _)_ , Jackson blushes a bit.

“Language, please”, Jack demands annoyingly.

“So it was our son who did the breaking and entering.”, I explain to Jack, “Coming back from some girl.”

“Oooh.”, Jack comments as if surprised, “Well, son, I do hope you took all necessary, uhm, _precautions_. I’m a bit young to be called grandpa.”

“This is not funny!”, I yell between the two of them, “Jackson, we will need to have a serious talk about your…your…activities!”

And then they both break down in laughter.

Offended and annoyed, I take the stairs down and go directly to bed. Jack comes after me in just a minute. He doesn’t find it necessary to even try to act a bit guilty, but shoots me a boyish grin.

“You _knew_ it was him all the time!”, I accuse him.

“I knew it was him tonight, and the night before, and the night before that..”, he laughs as he throws himself on the bed from a good distance. The beds shakes violently under him.

“So you knew he was stealing out of the house the entire time?!”, I ask angrily.

“You’re saying you didn’t?”, he snorts a giggle.

“No, I didn’t! If I did I would have put a stop to it! This is not acceptable behaviour!”

“Really, _mom_?”, Jack mocks me, “You’re surprised that a handsome 16 years old boy uses every opportunity to get laid? Oh, the _shock_..actually, I remember when I was 16…so I had this cute little girlfriend…and lemme tell ya..I didn’t waste even one opportunity to fuck that girl silly..”, Jack’s hands are already traveling all around my body, “Come to think about it..”

“Stop it!”, I keep on hitting his hands away, “You can’t compare us and him..”

“ _Us_? What makes you think I was talking about _you_..”, Jack teases me.

“As if there was any other girl in this town crazy enough to try something with you!”, I snarl, but smile at the slightly annoyed look on his face, “Do you remember yourself when you were 16..? Angry, sulking, frightening, wouldn’t talk to anyone…”

“And still the chicks found me attractive”, he interjects, somewhat offended, “It wasn’t just _you_.”

“You had to _blackmail_ me into dating you!”, I point out, laughing.

“Ah, blackmail-shmeckmail. You had every opportunity to get out if you wanted to.”, he smiles a bit, and his hands somehow find their way towards my panties again, “But you got hooked, once you tasted the _goods_ , didn’t you?”

“I just remember that I attacked you with a knife, after I kicked you in the balls”, I smile back at him, but I don’t really care about talking anymore. His fingers found my hot spot, and I feel myself turning into a pudding.

“Rough girl, though girl”, his lips are on my neck and he bites me gently, and I shiver with my entire body, “ _That’s my girl._.how about we see how though you are in a few minutes…”

And again, he makes me forget about all the serious issues I wanted to discuss with him.

 

…

 

Hours later, I have a dream, a nightmare. _I walk in a field, and it is dark outside, and there is a lot of fog, and I can’t see clearly. The fog smells funny, and I’m lost. I want to call for help, but then I start getting so hot, and tired. I never felt like that in my life. I would love to just rest and sleep, but then the fog starts shining and glowing somehow._

_And then Jack comes, and starts dragging me through this glowing fog, and he’s yelling at me, but I don’t understand what he’s saying._

_He carries me, and I’m so happy because he is so big and strong. I want to tell him this, but I choke on my words. He carries me to another field, a field that is much colder, but has no fog. On the contrary, the air on this field is so clear and delicious. I start breathing it in, desperately, and with each new breath of the fresh air I start to question myself…_

_..is this a dream?_

_And where is Jack? Is he gone, into the fog and the red and the hot?_

_This is not a field…_ it’s our lawn. _And the fog_ is smoke… _the glowing and the heat…_ our house is on fire!

“JACKSON!!!”, I yell from the bottom of my very soul, and my voice sounds like nothing I have ever heard before in my life. I try to get up and fall down repeatedly, so I crawl on my hand and feet towards the house. _My son is in there._

_Jack took me out, but where is he now? Did he go back for Jackson? The house is burning, it’s burning down.._

I feel like passing out, but I will myself to keep my consciousness and to continue crawling towards the house. I have no idea what to do, but my son is in there, so I have to be in there, too. Every move hurts, every breath feels like fire inside, and my head is swimming.

“Jackson. Jackson. Jackson”, I keep on saying quietly with each crawl towards the house, to remind myself why I’m not allowed to quit.

“ _Mama_!”, it’s his voice. _Oh God, please let it be his voice. I’m not sure about anything anymore. It’s all so blurry._

“Let’s put her in the car”, I hear Jack’s resolute voice.

“Is she hurt?”, _it’s his voice, I know it is._

 _“_ No, but she inhaled a lot of smoke”, Jack explains and then I feel my body being lifted up.

“Mama, jesi dobro?”, (“ _Mom, are you allright?_ ”). I’m in the backseat of the car, laying down, and Jackson is sitting in the front, turning towards me with a very concerned look on his face.

“Jesam, milo” (“ _I am, dearie_ ”), I answer, but I’m not sure if I managed to say it out loud or not. I try to get up to be closer to my son. My head won’t let me, though, and I feel like it will simply implode if I move it again. I want to check on my boys, I want to see with my own eyes if they’re ok, but I’m in no condition to do so right now. My head is heavy, and I feel like with every new breath, I get less and less oxygen. Finally, I feel the blackness consume me as I pass out in Jack’s speeding car.

“Sonja? _Sonja_! Fuck!”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, sorry for the delay! I had so much work, it's impossible! I've written this chapter in the one free hour I could find, so this is posted without proofreading or anything-sorry for the typos. Btw I would have taken my time with it, but I'm about to leave for a short trip and I won't be back until next week, and I didn't want to keep you waiting for another week because of a few stupid typos.  
> Lots of love to all of you!! Next update will be at the end of next week!


	6. Normal life

Panic rolls over me, making my insides do unpleasant twists, as I see mom losing consciousness on the back seat. I turn in my seat to get as close to her as possible (thank God, that American cars are so impossibly large!), and I manage to make sure that her tongue is not in her throat so she won’t suffocate. I check her pulse, and it’s faint, and her breathing seems terribly shallow.

“I need to get her to a hospital, right now”, I say to myself.

“We’re on our way”, Jack answers and pushes the gas pedal a bit further. We’re speeding as it is, and I’m thankful for it. Mom’s face has a weird ashen-greenish colour to it, and she really doesn’t seem that well. I feel close to tears, and I’m not even embarrassed about it. Mom is all I have - although all these years, she kept on talking about dad and mentioning him as if he was just about to waltz through the front door; reality was, that I had only one parent, only mom. Dad was this funny but weird stranger from stories. _Dad - Jack wasn’t there. It’s only mom and me, and mom’s not well now, and I gotta take care of her. He’ll probably just dump us in front of some hospital and speed away. Jack won’t risk getting caught because of us._

“Check her pulse and breathing again”, Jack’s voice startles me from my thoughts. He sounds concerned.

“It’s the same”, I tell him after I have done the check, and then I add, “She looks bad.”

He seems like he won’t reply, but he changes his mind after a minute, “She inhaled a lot of fumes. The fire started in our bedroom, so she was exposed to it way longer than me or you.”

“And where were you?”, I ask and I try not to sound as if I’m accusing him. But I do sound just like that because I actually _am_ accusing him. I don’t know where this suspicion comes from, but now that it’s here, I can’t get rid of it.

“I had to go out to meet a guy. I was gone for less than ten minutes, and when I came back, the room was already in flames”, he says in a very neutral tone. He knows what I’m thinking. He’s waiting for my reply, I guess he wants me to say that it’s ok, that it was all a big coincidence. I, however, don’t want to say a word, because I want to see what he’ll do or say next. _Maybe I’m onto something._

It takes him exactly two minutes of this tense silence to explode.

“I didn’t set the fire, you little shit!”, he yells and slams his hands on the wheel a few times.

“I never said..”

“Oh, spare me your bullshit!”, he growls at me, and this makes me feel a bit better, because his anger seems genuine.

We suddenly make a sharp turn as the huge car gets into a driveway. Obviously, this is not a hospital. I don’t want to ask stupid questions, but I want my mom to get the best care possible, so I got to know what is going on.

“What is this? We should take her to a hospital!”, I hiss at Jack.

“Help me get her out of the car”, he orders me, ignoring my question. He pulls mom under the armpits, and I get her legs. He only needs my help with getting her out, and as soon as she’s out, he carries her himself, bridal-style, towards the front door of a large but mostly dark house. To my surprise, the front doors are open. My surprise is even bigger when I find that from the inside, the house is completely lit, meaning that the front windows must be somehow tinted. An older lady sits in front of the TV in the room next to the entrance hall and gets up as soon as she hears us.

“You got someone else here?”, Jack asks her. Obviously, he knows her from before.

“Just a hooker sleeping off a bad beating. She’s in one of the room upstairs.”, the lady answers calmly and then she briefly looks at my mom with her cold eyes, “I’ll wake the doctor up right away. A fire, right? You all stink like fire.”

“Hurry up.”, Jack growls after her and the menace in his voice actually makes the lady run a bit. In the meanwhile, dad – mom is still in his arms, and if her face wasn’t so damned grey, I would have thought she was sleeping – carries mom down a hallway, and I trot along, feeling completely useless. We end up in a large and brightly lit room, dominated by a huge examination table. Jack puts mom on the table, as gently as possible. This is obviously a doctor’s office, judging by all the medical gizmo I saw only on TV shows.

“It’s a doctor’s office for patients who value, uhm, _privacy_ ”, Jack explains, without looking at me, and I nod. I notice that his eyes never leave my mom’s face. And, grease paint or not, I can clearly see he’s troubled. It seems like he cares for mom.

“Now, what? Have you blown yourself to pieces, finally?”, we both turn as we hear a voice coming from the hallway, “There’s only that much times I can sew you together, wild boy..”, and finally we see the figure of a short, old skinny man, obviously still half-asleep, draggle into the room.

“Listen”, in a second, Jack is hovering over the old doctor, a knife flashing dangerously in his hand, and his voice makes me terribly uncomfortable with dread, “Here are the rules. She dies, _you die._ ”

“Dear Lord almighty”, the old dude smacks Jack’s hand away, “Hold your horses. You just make sure you have my money, and I’ll fix the lady.”

Irritatingly slow, the doctor approaches my mom, checks her pulse, uses a flashlight to see if her pupils react. He listens to her breathing, using a stethoscope.

“Mhmm. Ah-hah.”, he comments, and Jack and I exchanged the same irritated glance, “There will be some coughing, I’ll say. Ah, you..you, _boy_ , get me that machine in the corner, will you..?”. I roll the device he pointed out and this very strange doctor puts a mask on mom’s face, and finally I realize this is an oxygen machine.

“Ahm. _Joker-boy_ , your lady friend should be all right in a day or two. She just needs a bit of oxygen, and a lot of rest. She’ll probably experience strong headaches and nausea for a while. Let’s keep her here for the time so I can check on her regularly”, the doctor casually leans on the examination table, “So that’s 3000 for the treatment, and an extra thousand because you were _so rude_ to me earlier.”

“Fucking leech”, Jack comments as he starts counting from a rather large bundle of money.

“And also, don’t forget an extra-large tip, since you burst in here in the middle of the night, with your _wife and kid_ in tow..”, the old guy apparently is bored of being alive.

“I have an extra-large tip for you, right here”, Jack is already on the doctor, smiling menacingly as the tip of his knife slowly but surely rips into the doctor’s clothes.

“What are you..?”, the old man’s question is silenced by both Jack’s merciless grip on his throat and the knife, now buried deeply in the man’s belly.

“Oh, shut up and die already”, Jack tells the dying man, who politely obliges.

I am shocked. I mean, mom told me about dad..she told me that he _does things_..I saw some of the things he does on news, and I googled him and stuff…but that was _the Joker_. Not Jack, not..not _my dad_. But here he is, my dad, letting a corpse he’s responsible for falling to the floor. My dad, killing a man in front of me, like it’s no big deal.

“Worry about it later. We need to get out of here, _and fast_ ”, he guesses my thoughts correctly.”

“Not so fast”, we hear a voice behind us. The lady who met us at the entrance stands in the doorway, holding a gun pointed at Jack. She clearly sees him as the major threat, and me she almost ignores.

“What”, Jack asks her blankly, as if he really has no idea what might be wrong.

“That is how you repay us our help. How many times did you turn up here, shot, stabbed, beaten up. And we took you in every time.”, the lady talks calmly, but her hands are slightly trembling.

“And you charged me every time and every time I paid _double_. Didn’t I?”, he counters just as calmly.

“It was a mistake to ever let you in”, her hands are now violently shaking.

“Put down the gun”, Jack tries to appear nonchalant, “I won’t kill you. I know you won’t say a word. I don’t have an issue with you. Never had.”

“As if you would ever let a witness live”, her finger starts to fumble around the trigger, and I react before really thinking. I mean, it’s clear that she is sure he will kill her (which he probably will, in all honesty), so she is trying to defend herself by killing him. But have I been aware of that in this moment, when I’m jumping on her, making us both crash and fall down on the floor? I will never really know. I just think I sensed her being desperate enough to pull the trigger and shoot _dad_. _No one is shooting my dad._ So, I just reacted.

Jack reacted, too. As soon as we land on the floor, his knife is already out, and I don’t even get up yet, his knife is already cutting her throat. Her dying gurgling and choking in blood takes place just a few feet from my face, making sure I have a trauma or two for life. _Fuck_. _An eventful night with daddy._

Jack doesn’t let me freak out but pushes me out of the room and the house. Soon enough, mom’s back in the car and the oxygen machine is cramped in the trunk. As we pull out of the driveway, the first flames start to shine the house from the inside. I look at dad questioningly, and he just shrugs with his shoulders. This really doesn’t help with my misplaced distrust from earlier that evening, but I don’t want to think about all that right now. Mom is in the back, and if the old dead guy is to believed, she should be fine soon. That’s all that counts.

We drive for quite a while, and almost 45 minutes pass before we finally turn into a long driveway. We are pretty far out from the centre of Gotham, this is one of those areas where houses are hidden within huge estates.

Again, he carries mom to a room on the first floor. It’s about 4.30 in the morning and I don’t have the strength or will to think about where we are and what we’re doing and all that happened this night. I just watch Jack turn on the machine and put the mask on mom’s face.

“There, there.”, he murmurs and gently caresses her face.

I collapse on a nearby couch and fall asleep, dead to the world.

 

…

 

It must be sometime around noon when I finally wake up. Jack is there, right next to mum on the bed, laying next to her and snoring quietly. I approach the bed quietly to check on mom, and to my immense relief and joy, her eyes are open and she even manages to give me a weak but warm smile.

“Mom”, I whisper, “How do you feel?”

“Tired. Hungry. And sooo thirsty”, she answers, “But alive.”

“You look much better”, I say stupidly. As if she knows how she looked the night before. Anyhow, I’m glad to see that the sick colour she sported just a few hours ago is now almost gone.

“Where are we?”, she asks me, her voice extremely raspy.

“I have no idea”, I shrug, “How about I get you some water and then try to find something to eat?”

“That sounds wonderful”, Jack’s sleepy voice interrupts us.

“Jack!”, my mom lets out a happy squeal and then falls into a coughing fit.

“Get that water, kid”, Jack tells me as he pulls mom into his embrace, also patting her back as if he’s trying to ease her coughing.

 

…

 

Afterwards, I find my way to the kitchen in that rather large house. There is no fresh food in the fridge, but I find the freezer with some chicken and veggies in it. I could try my hand at a chicken soup. I never made one before, but I saw mom do it a few times. It didn’t look that complicated. _I wonder what I should put first in the boiling water. The chicken, right? It takes longer to cook than the veggies. Or maybe I should put it all in simultaneously? Do I need herb for chicken soup? Should I ask mom? No, I don’t want to bother her with such stuff. I’m sixteen, God damn it, I can make a chicken soup._

I plop the entire chicken into the water and stuff the veggies into it, too.

_Maybe I should have washed the veggies._

_Why, though? They’re in boiling water anyway._

_And what is this house? Is it Jack’s? Is he rich or something?_

“Are you actually cooking?”, Jack’s voice startles me and to my embarrassment, I jump. Of course, he laughs.

“Very funny”, I grumble. _I slept too little and witnessed two murders and a fire last night. Not to mention I feared for my mother’s life. I have the right to feel jumpy. Ok?_

“She’s sleeping again.”, he says.

“That’s good”, I nod.

He walks a bit around the kitchen, inspecting this, looking at that, but I feel his eyes are actually on me. I pretend to be busy with stirring the mess that hopefully will turn into a soup someday.

“…we should talk.”, he finally says.

“Then talk.”, I shrug my shoulders and I can feel waves of his annoyance hitting me.

“As if you don’t have a thousand of questions.”, he makes a valid point.

“Actually, I do”, I say angrily.

“Then ask.”, he pays me back.

“Ok. First of all, what about the fire?”, I ask.

“My best guess is faulty wires. The house was old. I guess it was a matter of time something would happen”, he says simply and I actually believe him. That house was pretty crappy.

“But we can get a fire marshal to go and check so you could rest your little heart knowing that daddy didn’t do it”, he adds childishly.

“Yeah, where the fuck would I ever get the idea that you might do something outrageous. Right?!”, I yell.

“As if I would do that to my wife and kid!”, he yells back.

“..wife?”, I ask once I realize what he said. He pales a bit.

“I mean, it’s not official…we never talked about it..I doubt any of us is into that marriage stuff…but for all intents and purposes..you know”, he stumbles over his own feelings, ideas and sentences. His eyes inspect the ceiling and he seems to find the answer he’s most satisfied with, “I mean, she’s my woman. You’re my kid. You two are not…not for killing.”

“Hah.”, I just nod my head lightly when I see this is the best response I’m likely to get, “Ok. Let’s move on. Where are we going to live, now? _Here_?”

“Yeah.”, he says as if it’s a given.

“Is this place yours?”, I’m a bit surprised.

“Hmh, hmmm. Almost. Let’s say it’s a friend’s place, and that friend won’t ask to get it back.”

“Because he’s dead..?”

“Yeah.”

“And you killed him.”

“No. Contrary to popular belief, I do _not_ kill each and every person I meet.”

“Speaking of that, what about those two people from last night? What was that place anyway?”, I use my opportunity to drill him.

“Ok, kid. It’s actually a very simple case of economy. You have demand, and you have supply. On one hand, you have people who don’t have easy access to medical services because what they do isn’t strictly legal, on the other hand, you have an old disbarred doctor who likes cash on hand. The entire system relies on strict confidentiality and a hefty cash flow.”, he explains.

“That part I understand. What I don’t understand is why you actually killed him..?”

“Because you and I..”, he takes a few steps closer to me and looks me directly in the eyes, “..actually look _very_ similar. And he noticed that and realized we’re related. And then, he was a money-hungry whore who wanted extra cash for keeping shtum about it. Listen, I don’t mind paying. I pay dozens and hundreds of people to be quiet when needed. But what he tried..it doesn’t work like that. _I pay you because I chose to pay you. You don’t make me pay you. You won’t blackmail into anything. Especially if you’re mentioning my woman and my kid in the same sentence._ So that’s why the old fart had to go.”

“So I’m actually a liability to you?”, I ask and I don’t know how I feel about it.

“No man is an island”, he laughs with a hint of bitterness to it, “I never actually understood what that really means. Now I do.”

“Will I have a normal life here?”, I ask myself, and then realize I said it out loud. Mom does that, sometimes.

“Probably not. But if we’re able to separate what I do and whatever it is you’ll want to do, then maybe…maybe to some extent you could have your beloved _normal life_.”, he ends up spitting out the last two words, “Speaking of normal, if you want to keep your mom normal, you won’t mention what happened last night. She would freak out.”

“I think so, too”, I agree. There’s nothing to be gained by telling her about the bloodshed.

“By the way, kid”, he turns towards me once more and shots me one of his looks that indicate he’s about to say something important to him, “Thank you for what you did yesterday. And never do that again.”

I look at him, dumbfounded, and it takes me a second or two to realize he’s talking about how I jumped on that old lady who wanted to shot him down.

“Don’t mention it”, I say, not really knowing what to say. I think it will take me some time to process last night. And whether dad likes it or not, normal life sounds about glorious right now to me.

“I won’t.”, he answers somewhat darkly, “And try not to poison us with that shitsoup you’re making.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again I had no time and again I wrote this in one sitting and therefore you poor guys get all the typos and stuff. Sorry for that. Let me know how you liked the chapter!


	7. Peachy lady

It's been almost a week since the fire, and Jack still acts funny. He’s extra careful around me, making sure I have everything I could possibly need, but here and there I see the glances he throws my way, and I can feel him _thinking_. I see something like _worry_ in his intelligent eyes, and the way he _does not talk_ fills me with concern. He seems to recognize every occasion I try to start a conversation, and just a second before I open my mouth, his tall figure is already out through the door.

I sigh, but I know what I need to do to get and _keep_ my man’s attention.

…

It takes ages for him to come home that night. I frown a bit when I see that he still has his _face_ on. Actually, he still has his entire Joker-outfit on, and the whole damn thing is intimidating. Still, I have my plan and I mean to keep to it.

“So, how do you like this?”, I ask as I shamelessly let my silk bathrobe slide down to the floor. Underneath, I have a pair of lacy balconette bra and matching hipster briefs. It took me a really long time before I decided to go with the colour peach: soft, juicy, alluring.

His dark eyes flash over my body as I turn around to make sure he gets a good look. Still he keeps his distance. _Very well, if you don’t come to me, I’ll most definitely come to you._

“I just love it, but look at this, it’s such a small little strip of fabric in the front, and knowing you with your knifes..”, I slowly walk up to him, but I deliberately don’t look up at him as I gently squeeze both my bra and my boobs closer together, making the truly small piece that connects the bra in the front pop up. I know how he loves to ruin my lingerie, be it by hand or by knife.

I risk a quick glance at him. _I definitely have all of his attention._ But the damn make-up makes it hard to read his facial expressions. I’m not sure how he likes what I’m doing right now. I’m actually a bit afraid, because his appearance makes me feel like I’m dealing with a terrifying stranger here, and not the man I know and love.

“A-and look..”, my voice breaks a bit, revealing my fear – how quickly have the tables turned! Just a minute ago, I was so full of myself, and look at me now, and all he did was just walk in and stand there!! – but I stubbornly keep up with my little show. I pull a bit at my panties, the lacy part of it at my hips, “That lace..it could tear so easily..”

“Mhmm..”, he finally grunts, and I feel some relief, because it sounds like a satisfied grunt. Moments later, his gloved hand traces the spot on my hip I have just touched. I shiver a bit and I can feel him smiling.

“Don’t start something if you don’t know how to finish it”, his lips play around my ear, and my heart beat is up to an insane rate. I don’t know if it’s fear or excitement.

I see something flash in the dimly lit bedroom and I just know it’s a knife. I now also know that what I feel is fear. I look at him, and he still has this half-smile, half-smirk, and I’m not sure if he’s playing or if this is for real, I just know I hate that god awful make-up of his – it makes it impossible to actually _see_ him! He takes a tiny step towards me, a switchblade in his right hand, and makes a quick move with that hand, and I gasp.

“You don’t really trust me.”, he states.

I lower my eyes and I realize my bra is ruined. He’s cut through that small piece of fabric in the middle of it. I don’t know why, but I feel like crying. I’m half naked, but I don’t feel sexy right now – I feel exposed.

“I hate that makeup. It really scares me”, I admit and my voice is embarrassingly shaky.

“It’s just makeup. It’s still me underneath it.”, he says, standing just a step away from me, but I feel as if there are miles between us.

“You act differently when you wear it”, I say.

“Actually, I don’t- _t_.”, he takes that one step towards me, while throwing the switchblade away. He embraces me tightly, and I can feel the hard fabric of his purple coat at my chest. It’s not a bed sensation, “Did you forget? Or maybe you never really saw it? I was always like that.”

I look at him questioningly, but I also take care to continue to hold him tightly to myself. I love having him so close to me, no matter how weird the circumstances.

“Yes..no matter what I did, even when you saw me do it, no matter how appalling...you still stood by me. Maybe you had some excuse ready for me, it’s the scars, it’s his broken family, it’s society, whatever…now it’s the make-up, so it’s not Jack who kills, it’s the Joker, that other guy, right?”, he smiles at me lightly, and as he speaks, I realize he’s right.

“..but it’s actually Jack?”, I ask him quietly, realizing that once again, he’s making things clear for me, in order for me to be able to make an _informed decision: do I want to be with him? With all that he is?_

“It’s always just Jack.”, he nods and look at me expectantly. We are still in that somewhat awkward embrace. I already know what my decision is, but I want to take my time. Honestly, I enjoy that I can make him wait in uncertainty. _Evil me._

“Are you waiting for me to run away screaming..?”, I look up at him, finally. And he laughs. Not one of his crazy laughs, but one of those laughs I adore so much – straight from his heart, a powerful laugh filled with joy. I join that laugh with a few giggles and pure joy washes over me. I jump a bit, just enough to circle my legs around his waist, and his eyes shamelessly wander to my naked breasts.

“Aww, what happened with your pretty bra?”, he asks in mock surprise and I laugh.

“It did its job admirably and it will now take its place of honour in my graveyard of ruined undergarments”, I giggle.

“Uh, wait, lemme take care of the panties so they can join the poor bra”, he giggles as he rips my panties off. Then his fingers find their way to my most intimate part, and he lets out a deep moan full of lust.

“I’m so wet for you”, I whisper in his ear, and his reaction is instant. I’m sent flying to the bed, and then I’m treated to the spectacle of Jack getting out of his clothes as fast as he can. A few buttons fly around, and I’m sure I heard something ripping. Jack’s hair is a complete mess, and he almost stumbles to the ground. I can’t help it, I laugh out loud. He’s finally naked, and what a glorious sight it is. His beautiful long limbs, his toned muscles and then his warm skin..I feel like melting into a puddle just from looking at him. He crawls over me, and flashes me one of those warning looks.

“Something amusing..?”, he gnarls.

“Yes, you are!”, I giggle all over again, giddy with joy.

„Still think so?“, he asks as he pushes into me, inch by inch. I’m wet, but I’m not entirely ready yet, so the feeling of pleasure is mixed with a hint of pain, and I love it.

“Uhh..yes-s..”, I moan, and I’m not even sure if I’m answering his question or am simply urging him on.

Finally, he’s seated in me completely, and then he stops all movement. I raise my hips a bit, but nothing happens. I open my eyes to find him staring directly into mine.

“You’re mine”, he simply says, but I can feel that he expects an answer.

“I am”, I confirm as if it’s a given.

“And this is mine. Just mine.”, he shifts a bit, just to make it clear what he means.

“Only yours”, I say softly. As if I would waste my time with any other man when I can have him.

“And you love me.”, his eyes bore into mine, searching for any sign of deceit or insecurity.

“I do. I love you.”, I say, and I mean it.

He then closes his eyes and lowers his head towards mine a bit, and I realize he’s waiting for a kiss. I also realize that whatever he was wondering about in the last few days has to do with this – with him needing to feel truly accepted by me. So, tonight, I don’t ask him if he loves me back, I don’t need to hear about how he feels about me. Tonight, is about _him_.

With that in mind and in heart, I raise my head and meet his lips in the gentlest possible kiss. I slowly kiss his lips, from corner to corner, I trace his scars with my lips, and I don’t even mind the make-up anymore. I take his face in my hands and gently caress him. I kiss his lips as my fingers travel over his brows and into his hair. He opens his lips and we share a slow and terribly sensual kiss. His hips suddenly move a bit, and I gasp. I almost forgot he was inside of me. He fills me so perfectly that it feels like he’s a part of me. I push back with my hips, and he gently bites my lower lip. His lips travel down my neck and I spread my legs even further.

“I’m so happy when you’re inside of me”, I tell him and I don’t even care if that sounds strange.

“Mhmm”, he lets out that satisfied noise again, and then his hips start swinging into that well-known rhythm, “Tell me more.”

“I like it when you _take_ me. I like it when you _have_ me”, I know I’m pushing all the right buttons, for both of us.

He bites my neck gently, and I know he wants to hear more. I look at him move over me, and he reminds me of some glorious beast. He is so strong, so completely male – I don’t know how any woman could deny him.

“I love it when you have control over me and just take what you want”, I whisper into his ear, and as soon as the words are out, he flips me over on all fours and pushes into me again.

“Is this what you like?”, he asks me, and I can feel waves of aggressiveness, strength and pure male virility come out of him.

“Yes, please! More!”, I lower my shoulders and head to the mattress, just as he likes it. In this position, I feel like I’m somehow offering myself to him, and that notion drives me crazy with lust.

“That’s my girl!”, he slaps my bottom for a few times, and I let out a small shriek every time, which makes him laugh. He knows I can take a little manhandling, and I even like it.

“Oh, God..”, I’m in no state to form another coherent sentence as he continually and roughly pushes into me. I try to change the position just for a few centimetres, because his rhythm is starting to feel a bit much, but he quickly catches one of my arms behind my back.

“Ah, ah! Where do you think you’re going?”, he hotly whispers into my ear as he continues to pound into me relentlessly. His other hand reaches between my legs and his clever fingers find my sweet spot, “Answer me…”

“It was..too rough..”, I manage to answer between moans. What he does with his fingers is quickly bringing me to the right track.

“So, you’ll leave when things get rough?”

Even I’m in a complete sex haze, still this question makes me open my eyes widely. I know this question has nothing to do with sex. It has to do with my loyalty towards him. I turn my head as much as I can to look him straight in his eyes. He’s still fucking me, but as I turn my head, I find him to be very expectant of my answer.

“I won’t leave. No matter how rough..things are.”, I say seriously, and then I turn back to my previous position, and I even slap his hand from between my legs. My message is clear: I’m here, no matter what, and I can take on rough times if it means we’re together.

“That’s right”, he simply says and continues him unforgiving rhythm. He’s deep inside of me, pushing his entire length in and out, as if making sure I feel every single inch his length and girth. He covers my body with his, and makes me change positions from on my knees to laying down completely on my front side. Even in this position, he manages to push deeply inside of me, and he also makes me feel his weight on me.

“Completely mine”, he whispers into my ear, and this time he doesn’t need an answer. He is stating, not inquiring.

His thrusts turn a bit shallower as he manages to prowl his hand between the bed and my body, and his fingers again find my clit. I moan as he plays with my wetness and I try to raise my hips, searching for more friction.

“Ah-ta-ta-ta. Stay still.”, he quietly orders and I obey, hoping he would give me my release soon. Although I am always the one who makes sure I would come, even if it only means using my fingers for the last five seconds of our coupling, this time I completely let go off any control and let him do what he wants. His fingers keep on making small and quick circles around my clit, and just as I think that this is _not_ how I would do it, _and that this won’t work like this_ , I feel the most peculiar wave hitting my body, which is immediately followed by a feeling that all my bones have melted. Only then I feel another such wave hitting my body, and I realize that in the same time, I’m unbelievably relaxed and also that all my muscles are flexing, and that my heartrate is over the roof. I gasp for air, and my breathing comes out in incredible moans and small yells. I hear Jack laugh over me, and then he starts fucking me again, which makes the waves come all over again. The amount of wetness that comes out of me is simply astonishing, and then finally Jack stops and I can clearly feel his hot come inside of me. He collapses on top of me and gently bites my shoulder.

It takes me minutes to feel even a bit normal.

“I never came like that”, I confess, and Jack laughs again.

“See what happens when you really let me have control?”, he says smugly.

“..I never knew”, I admit, and decide that from now on, he can have all the control in the world, for all that I care.

“Sleep now, peachy lady. We have a big day tomorrow.”, he says, and I’m already drifting into dreamland.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to do a plot-only chapter. Ended up doing a smut-only chapter. YOLO, I guess :)


	8. Oh no you did not

„I want to go to school“, Jackson announced during breakfast one morning, if breakfast is what I can call the mess we have every morning. Jack keeps on insisting that he does not want breakfast, but in the same time, whatever I try to eat, he steals and devours as if he’s starving. When I look at him accusingly, he just blankly stares at me, eggs or ham or whatever we have that morning sloppily traveling down his chin, and he asks me: “ _What-t_?”. No force known to this world could make him sit down at the table, I swear.

“I was thinking the same”, I nod at my son’s announcement, and we both look expectantly at Jack.

“What?”, Jack bluntly asks as he shoves another pancake _from my plate_ into his mouth.

“We need help with the paperwork, Jack. You know, new ID’s, new names, etc-I don’t want anyone to follow our path up here to the States.”

“Yeah, yeah, I already took care of that”, he rolls his eyes, “All that boring stuff is in the drawer over there. So, pick a school, champ, and make us _proud_.”, he finishes in the least possible excited voice.

“And there’s this other thing”, Jackson continues, and that really catches my attention. I knew he would ask to go back to school sooner or later (if nothing else, then to meet girls), but it seems that he has something more to tell, and that something seems to be bothering him. In a second, a number of possible scenarios flashes through my head: is he feeling ill? Is someone bothering him? Did he catch a STD?! I swear, that boy…I already talked to him about that stuff, but he just rolls his eyes and tells me this is not something he wants to discuss with his _mother_ ¸ which leaves me no choice, since his slightly crazy father would probably encourage him to do all kinds of stupid things.

“What’s wrong?”, I ask sharply, and Jackson typically rolls his eyes.

“It’s nothing”, he sighs, and then he shrugs his shoulders, “I got us a dog, that’s all.”

“A dog?”, I ask, surprised.

“Do you mean that ugly ass mutt that sleeps in the back yard? With brown and yellow spots?”, Jack interjects.

“Yeah. He’s not that ugly once you get used to him”, Jackson smiles a bit. He always loved dogs, so this is no big surprise, “So, we’re gonna keep him, or what?”

“I want to see the dog, first”, I sigh, because I know we will keep the dog. None of us has the heart to send it away.

So the three of us trot to the back yard, and after Jackson whistles, sure enough, a really shabby-looking, smelly, _and huge,_ dog cheerfully runs to him.

“He’s really ugly”, Jack says, and just as I want to agree, I start feeling weird, and to my utter shock, I realize I am about to throw up.

“Oh God”, is all I manage to say before I unload not only my breakfast, but also last night’s dinner.

“Eww”, Jack, unhelpful as always, takes a few steps back.

“What was that?”, Jackson asks me when I finish.

“I have no idea-maybe remnants from the fire or something?”, I am completely confused. I almost never get sick.

“Why don’t you lie down, huh? And uh...you’ve got a little..”, Jack says and I realize he’s mocking me, that bastard. On the other hand, I don’t miss to notice a weird face he makes, even if it was for less than a second, but his face gave away the expression of.. _expectation_?

 

….

 

Jackson loses no time in finding a high school, one that is nearby, so unlike a lot of his peers, he does not need a car to get to school. Jack actually mocked him a bit about that, and I saw a very well-known frown form on Jackson’s face, telling me that ‘getting a car’ was his new mission from now on.

Unlike me all these years ago, Jackson is thrilled by his American high school, especially when he discovered _they had cheerleaders_. _Black girls, Asian girls, blonde girls, so many girls, aw man, and all of them so…cheery._ I complain to Jack about that attitude, and Jack surprises me by saying we should simply wait: soon enough, a girl will show up who will rock his world into monogamy. _Let’s hope we won’t become grandparents before that, haha!_

We keep the dog and call him “Gadni”, which means “Ugly” in Croatian. Jack mispronounces it “Ghandi” on purpose. Gadni really is ugly, but we quickly get to like him. After I give him a thorough bath in the back yard, he’s even allowed in the house.

Again, one morning, we have breakfast as usual. Jack came late that night and dirtier than usual. I didn’t ask. I know that I don’t want to know. The TV is on for some reason – I usually don’t watch TV, but Jackson turned it on, and just as I successfully defend my sandwich from Jack’s stealing grip, the news starts, and the first story is how Joker blew up a golf and country club. I don’t even get to hear if there were an casualties, when I get the telling feeling that I need to go to the bathroom, _and fast_. I slap my hand over my mouth, but to no use. I throw up under the kitchen table.

“What to fuck?!”, I yell as soon as I get some air.

“You should see a doctor”, Jackson advises me.

“I really should-this is not normal”, I agree.

“Is it because of the news?”, Jackson offers helpfully.

“..what?”, I stare at him blankly, and then realize what he means, “No, no…nothing like that.” _Oh, that boy has no idea what I already witnessed his daddy do…one little explosion is nothing._ As if reading my mind, Jack snickers a bit and winks at me. However, I have this feeling again, as if I saw something flash on his face for a second. This time, it was.. _pride? Pride and…conviction._

_He knows something._

_Jack knows something about me and I don’t._

_How in hell is that possible?_

“I need to lay down for a while”, I announce, shooting daggers at Jack who suddenly looks _very innocent_.

 

….

 

The next day I throw up all over the god-damned dog.

“FUCK!!!”, I yell and Jack doubles over with laughter. Gadni starts licking at the barf that he can reach, which makes me sick all over again, and Jack explodes in waves of new laughter.

“This is not normal”, Jackson comments as soon as he peeks out of the door to see what the racket is all about, “You’re not _pregnant_ or something?

“I’m not, I’m on the pill”, I wave the idea off, “Jack, I need to see a doctor.”

“Yeah, I’ll see what I can do”, he says, but I have the feeling as he does not mean it.

I take a walk through the back yard, which is pretty big. I need some clear air, quite literally. And I need to think, because _something is going on_.

Am I sick? Did I eat something wrong? The food I’m eating here is not the same as the one back in Croatia, maybe I should take more care to buy quality food? Have I developed some weird allergy? Does anyone in my family have any weird illness? _What is going on?_

I take the car, even though is one of those with automatic shifters, and I don’t really know how to drive that kind, but I figure I have to master that if I’m living in the States. I noticed a small shopping mall a few days ago, and I need a few things from Walgreens to help me with my upset stomach. I don’t even tell Jack where I’m going, because I feel a bit mad at him. Instead of laughing at me, he should have comforted me or something.

I enter the pharmaceuticals, and I can’t believe how big it is. I take my sweet time strolling down the aisles, and I take quite the number of items into my shopping cart. I took some of Jack’s money, and I smile gleefully as I spend his money on things that I don’t really need that much. However, my smiling stops as I stop by some shelves with pregnancy test. _Could it be..? I’m on the pill. I mean, I know there is a theoretical possibility of getting pregnant even when one regularly takes the pill, but we’re talking theoretical, like, come on..no way._ Still, one test lands in my shopping cart. I’m spending money here on stupid stuff, remember? I mean, I can take the test, just to make sure I’m not that one in a million, ok? _Whatever._

 

…..

 

When the blue plus shows up, indicating and confirming that I am pregnant, I just gasp. Maybe a bit too loudly, because Jack is already on the other side of the door.

“What’s going ohhh-onnn?”, he asks in a sing-song voice.

“Nothing!”, I answer too fastly, and too loudly.

“Then let me iiihhh-innn!”, he demands in the same voice, but I know he’s not asking me, he’s _telling_ me.

“Can’t I have any privacy?”, I open the door after I have hastily stuffed the test into my pocket.

“You can.”, he says, towering over me and staring at me with such intensity that I somehow start to believe that he knows all my secrets, my thoughts, my feelings and everything that is kept in both my head and my heart.

“What.”, I try to wiggle my way past him, but his strong arms gently, but decidedly keep me in place. I avoid his eyes – I can’t share the truth about my pregnancy with him; not yet. The news is too fresh, too raw, the shock hasn’t even built up yet-I’m not ready to share yet. I can’t say that truth out loud.

“Do you know that I love you?”, he gently and genuinely asks me, and that takes me by surprise. I look at him and I find nothing but warmth and joy in his eyes. I inspect his eyes with some distrust, and I realize I’m a already in protective baby-mama mode.

“I do.”, I say after a minute, since he calmly and patiently waited for the answer to that rather simple question so long.

“And I _do._ _Love._ _You_. And that means something.”, he tells me, not breaking eye contact, “It means I’m on your side. On _our_ side.”

He gives me that look – the one he’s been hiding these past few days – the pride, the happiness, and the _knowing_.

_Oh my God, he knows._

_How the hell does he know?_

He keeps on staring in my eyes, and I can tell the moment when he realizes that I know that he knows. His smile widens, but his eyes still carry that expectant look. _He wants me to confirm._

_How can he be that far ahead of me? It’s my body, for Goodness sake! And I’m on the pill! It’s impossible! Unless…no. No. No. He wouldn’t. NO WAY._

“Wait…waitwaitwait…”, I shake his hands off of me, and push him away. He doesn’t like it, but I see curiosity and mischief in his eyes _. Is he watching to see if I got it?_

I go straight to the little table next to my side of the bed. I keep my pills there. I take the round package and take a long, hard look at the pills. They were always red..but these pills are a different shade of red. My head snaps up and I look sharply at Jack.

“Jack.”

“What.”, his façade is already up.

“Jack.”

“What-t.”

“Don’t you _what-t_ me!”, I scream as I throw the pills at him.

“What!”, he roars with laughter as he turns to run away from me into the hallway.

“This is not funny, _you donkey_!!”, I grab a vase and miss him – I was never good at throwing stuff, and he’s a moving target.

“I don’t even know what you’re talking about, sweetheart!”, he lies through his teeth as he takes cover behind the couch in the living room.

“Don’t you move when I throw things at you!”, I yell at the seemingly empty room, “And man up and show yourself!”

He can’t resist the challenge and rises behind the couch. His wide grin irritates me to no end. I want to hit him with something, but what’s the use?! I’ll just smash the pretty house he found for us and then I’ll have a mess to clean up afterwards. _I’m a grown up now, not a teenager._

My anger suddenly turns into helplessness and I sit down at the opposite facing couch. I don’t hear him approach me, cat-like as he is, but I feel his warmth as he sits next to me. He takes my hand into his and gently squeezes it.

“Sonja. Say it. I want to hear it from your mouth.”, he asks.

I cry a little, and then I just nod my head.

“Say it, Sonja, please.”, I hear his voice, and there is no glee in it, just comfort and support.

“I’m pregnant.”, I say.

He hugs me closely, and pulls me onto his lap. He then kisses my forehead, my cheeks, my fingers. He peppers me with little kisses and I relax into his touch.

“I am so happy.”, he then says and I know he means it.

_That tricking, manipulative, crazy bastard. I’d kill him if I didn’t love him as much as I do, and he knows it._

“I can’t believe you did this”, I shake my head.

“It’s going to be a girl, I’m sure of it”, he smiles dreamily.

“You can’t just make such decisions by yourself.”, I say.

“I’m going to spoil her so badly.”, he giggles.

“I’ll make you pay for this, you know. You’ll suffer for this.”, I promise him. _And I mean it._

“It’s _so_ worth it.”, he finally looks at me and kisses all my protests away, even if it is just for a few minutes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I am so, so, so very late with the update and I am truly sorry. The reason is personal (nothing tragic, just annoying) and it shouldn't happen again!!  
> In the meantime, thank you for all the kudos and comments. Please let me know how you like the new chapter! Sorry for any typos, I wrote it down in one sitting...


	9. Serial father

I can hear mom barfing in the upstairs bathroom. I give up eating my cereal and lean back in my chair, all while giving Jack an openly hostile and accusatory glare.

“How come mom’s pregnant if she’s on the pill?”, I ask him, knowing very well what happened. Mom told me. She seemed angry, but I know her-Jack’s about to be forgiven very soon. She’s incredibly soft when it comes to _this guy_.

“I’ve got super sperm.”, he tells me with all confidence in the world, and in the same time he reaches for my bowl of cereal.

“Good for you. Apparently, you’re also really good at switching birth control pills with candy..?”, I hiss at him, and I’m a bit surprised at my own tone of voice. _I sound hurt._ Jack doesn’t miss that, as well.

“Is this somehow bad news for you, junior?”, he asks me, and I hate the mocking tone he uses.

“No. You two can make an army of children, for all I care”, I murmur back, and I hate sounding so childish.

“Hah! That’s a good idea..”, Jack smiles widely, “But your mom doesn’t seem too cooperative. Probably because of all the vomiting and getting fat and stuff.”

“Yeah, and giving birth, and then taking care of the baby and so on, right?”, I add sarcastically.

“I wouldn’t know”, Jack says, more seriously now, “I missed all that. With you, I mean.”

For a moment there, I get a feeling like he regrets missing my growing up.

“Well, you didn’t know I was even alive. I mean, it wasn’t even as if you wanted me”, I ramble a bit, and then try to correct myself. I notice that he carefully listens to what I’m saying, and that confuses me even more, “What I wanted to say, you didn’t.. _make me_..on purpose. Not like this baby. So why do you care about missing that time with me – you can’t miss something if you didn’t even want it.”

He looks at me funnily for a moment or two, and then he starts laughing, one of his bone-chilling crazy laughs. I slam my hands on the table, exasperated, and get up to leave, but he quickly puts his arm on my shoulder, signalling me stay.

“Oh my God! No really, I like your mom, I really love her, but she’s sometimes so slow..! No wonder I succeeded with this twice already, I mean, I guess I could really get away with this a few more times..! Maybe I’ll I get myself that army you speak of..!”

“What..?”, I ask, dumbly.

“Oh son, I’m gonna make your day”, he calms down a bit, and starts to explain, “When your mom decided to stay with me, back when we were kids, after a while, I became so crazy about her, and so happy about us, and I wanted to, you know, hmm, _be with her_ all the time..and then one time I wondered why I want to do, hmm, things with her – well, you know what – I mean, all the time!, and then I realized it’s simply nature doing its work. We were working on a baby, I mean, let’s be real about it! And when I realized that we are doing as nature and its basic law are telling us, I became a bit obsessed with the idea of getting her pregnant, and having a baby. The idea of her, big and round, _carrying my child_ , was the most appealing idea I ever had.”

“Ok…?”, I say, and in the same time, I subconsciously tap my pocket, feeling a wave of relief when I realize my condoms are there. The idea of becoming a _daddy_ is not appealing at all to me right now, “So..?”

“So I used every opportunity to get rid of the fucking rubber and give her a healthy dose of..”

“JACK!”, mom’s yell makes us jump in our seats.

“YES, DARLING!”, Jack shouts back without skipping a beat.

“What are you talking about?!”, she demands.

“Depends on for how long you were eavesdropping”, he cheekily answers.

“Did you impregnate me with Jackson on purpose?”, she asks, now with much less fury. Her eyes fall on me, and I see her soften.

“I sure did”, Jack smiles proudly, “I just didn’t know if I was successful. But I’m surprised that in all these years you haven’t got the idea that he wasn’t an accident.”

“Jack, really..”, my mom is obviously lost for words.

“I’m not going to apologise for that”, he looks her straight in the eyes, and then he shifts his gaze on me, “Look at what I made. _Our son._ I’m proud. I’d do it again. Actually, I did do it again.”, he finishes smugly.

I’m taken aback by what he says, and I don’t know how to answer. I just know that I feel a bit closer to my dad than before, and I’m happy for it.

“And I am equally as proud for making this one, who makes you barf that much”, Jack gently pulls mom in his embrace, resting his big hand on her belly, “She’s gonna be a real trouble maker, that one.”

“You’re so sure it will be a girl”, mom smiles.

“And after that we’ll do twins”, he declares.

“No, after that you’ll get a vasectomy.”

“Over my dead body.”

“We can arrange that.”

 

…

 

I walk to my school that day feeling a bit more relaxed and happy than usual. The knowledge that Jack wanted me, and that he’s actually proud of me being his son, is somehow uplifting. On the other hand, I’m a bit surprised with myself, just how easily I have accepted this strange man and just how much his approval means to me.

I know now for sure that I won’t stay in mom’s and Jack’s way. The way she reacts to him, the softness, the obvious love and warmth she feels for him, but also his possessiveness of her, the way he keeps on wrapping himself around her body and soul – it’s pretty obvious they are meant to be.

Which makes me a bit ashamed of myself and my own love life. I wonder if I will ever have something resembling to that.

At school, everyone is in festive mood, since some cheerleading squad is coming back from some tournament, and apparently, they’ve won something. I have met _and then some more_ some of the cheerleaders, but since I’m really new at this school, I haven’t seen the girls who are being loudly welcomed back until now.

I roll my eyes at the _very American_ enthusiasm about such a mundane thing as some chicks winning some stupid trophy. Then I finally see the six girls who are the reason of today’s gathering in the school’s gymnasium and…

_Oh, sweet Lord in heavens._

If I put all the girls I did until now together, they still wouldn’t be a match to her. _Not even close._

_How can a girl be so beautiful?_

She waves and smiles and does a little routine with the other girls, and everyone’s clapping and loudly supporting them, and I too realize that I suddenly am on my feet, clapping like crazy and yelling stupid shit like “GO BEAVERS” (I’m not even sure what kind of animal that is).

I just know that for a split second, she looked _directly at me_. _She did._ And her magnificent smile broadened just a bit more. I'm sure of it.

She will be mine.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I'm sorry, pls don't kill me. I have a ton of explanations and excuses, but it all comes to the fact that again I'm way too late with updating. I will really try to do better in future.  
> In the meantime, thank you for reading :)


	10. Take a hike

It's actually not easy to catch her alone. That girl, Jasmine, she’s always surrounded by her cheerleading posse, her friends, and most annoyingly – her boyfriend. What does she see in that clean-cut, boring, average-looking teeny-boy, Jackson simply cannot understand. _He’s a vegetarian, for Christ’ sake! Does that still count as male, anyway? Like, come on._

But the moment comes, and he sees her sitting on a bench _all alone_.

“Hey there, girlie”, he sits casually next to her and flashes her one of his well-rehearsed easy smiles. _Chicks dig a confident guy._

“Do I know you?”, she shoots him a blank look. _Handsome guy_ , she thinks.

_She’s so painfully pretty. Even more stunning when I’m this close to her._

“I’m new here. Jackson”, he offers her his hand for a handshake, which she ignores. _Rude. Defiant. A little fight in her. I like that._

“Oh, you’re that guy!”, she smiles shortly with recognition crossing her face. _Aw crap. Handsome, but I heard the worst about him._ , “Fuckboy.”

“Uhm, come again?”, Jackson’s brows drop. _I must have misheard._

“Well, us girls talk.”, Jasmine tells him as if he was a particularly slow toddler. _He’s too good looking for his own good. He thinks he can treat girls like garbage only because he’s oh-so-charming. Time for a lesson, pretty boy._

“Ok, so..?”, he’s slowly realizing his flirting attempt is quickly turning into a minor catastrophe. _Come on, beautiful, don’t play hard to get._

“So, Becky, Donna and Cheryl..? And Kumiko, too, right..?”, she smiles gleefully when she notices Jackson blushing.

“Those are girls I dated..”, he tries lamely. _And I fucked only Donna who basically threw herself on me. I just fooled around a little with the other girls._

“No, those are girls you took out for a burger, then fucked in the back of their own cars since you don’t even have one of your own, and then forgot they even existed. That’s not dating. Is it, fuckboy?”, she elaborates. _My boyfriend, on the other hand, protects my virginity. Mostly because he’s gay and he uses our relationship as cover, even he would never admit that to me-as if I didn’t know his colours right from the start._

“I mean, what is to you?”, he’s getting defensive. _I don’t owe her any explanations or apologies for anything! Still, she’s so damn pretty and smoking hot. I would explain the entire world to her and apologize for anything ever done by anyone._

“To me, it’s a fair warning.”, she smiles again. _Because I could fall easily for you._

“Aren’t you full of..assumptions.”, he sighs. _Her assumptions are correct, to be perfectly honest._

“Take a hike, fuckboy.”, she simply says and then keeps on texting, effectively letting him know that the conversation is _over_ and he _may go_ _away_. _Somehow, I hope you’ll try again._

 

…

 

It’s Donna, of course, who pesters him the most. Donna is particularly mad at him for pulling the old _wham-bam-thank you ma’am_ and keeps on bashing him via all possible social media for a while.

And now is her moment to gloat. She fills his inbox with text messages:

_OMG I can’t believe you tried to pull Jasmine LMFAO_

_she’s like royalty. her bf is a rich genius and his dad is a judge. i mean come on_

_you’re a nobody. who’s your daddy? LOL_

_you don’t even have a car. your not even in any sports team_

_not even the chess club_

_sorry ass loser,_

_you can be lucky i gave u any time which i regret btw_

_and you talk weirdly_

_whats up with that accent. its not cute u sound like some Russian criminal_

_and your shit in the sack tbh_

_as if you could ever land her LMAO_

_i cant believe you landed me_

_you really got lucky but lemme tell you that was that one time only_

_anyway don’t bother to even look in my direction byeeee_

 

He refrains from answering, but re-reads the messages a few times. He is new to the States, and kids here are not the same like the kids back home. Their priorities, wishes and values differ drastically from what he is used to.

So, Donna, who he uses as an example of the average teen, thinks that Jasmine is above his league. Mostly because Jasmine’s current boyfriend is richer and his dad is some big shot. Jackson does not see any real problem with that: his family is wealthy enough, and his dad is like…come on. My _daddy_ is the god-damned _Joker_. _Try to beat that._ Next item, Jasmine is supposedly out of limits because Jackson doesn’t have a car. Apparently, having a car is a huge thing over here. _Ok, I need to get a car somehow. I’ll probably need a job. I really don’t feel like having a job. Shit. I guess I’ll have to endure. I don’t see myself flippin’ burgers, though._ Moving along. Donna mentioned he’s not in a sport team. That is also a big thing over here. Everybody tries to be part of some sports team, and he finds that annoying. But, apparently, if you’re in a team, you’re someone, and he wants to move from the position of fuckboy to the position of _oh-look-it’s-our-star-athlete_. He sighs. Maybe they have some marshal arts club, or wrestling, or box, something like that. _I could do that. Maybe then, she’ll cheerlead for me. Her fuckboy._

 

…

 

„Take it off, or I'll vomit all over you“, I tell Jack as soon as he enters our bedroom. It’s late at night, and mostly dark in the room, but I can smell his awful grease paint a mile away. Another questionable perk of being pregnant.

“That is, uh, that is one of the most convincing and uh, _effective_ , threats that I have ever received”, he mockingly bows in my general direction and continues in the direction of our bathroom.

His voice is a bit nasal, so I know he was up to no good tonight, _again_. I sigh and turn around in bed. I don’t need to know. I don’t _want_ to know. I won’t turn on the television tomorrow.

He comes out a few minutes later, after one of his ridiculously fast showers. The smell of _clean male_ hits my nostrils and I make a little satisfied nod, all covered up in blankets. Still, he doesn’t miss even this small movement of mine. A second later, he crashes his entire weight close to me.

“Better?”, he asks as he shoves his wet hair into my face.

“Better”, I laugh.

“..I know your threat was empty, though. You didn’t vomit for two days in a row, and you ate _a lot_.”, he taunts me.

“My first trimester is almost over, so thankfully the nausea is finally diminishing.”, I confirm, feeling really happy about the fact that I stopped throwing up all over the house and its inhabitants, yet irritated by the rest of his observations, “What do you mean, _I ate_ _a lot_?”

“The pancakes, and then that giant pizza, and also the ice cream’s gone, don’t think I haven’t noticed”, he laughs at the offended expression on my face, “I’m just saying, if you continue to…”

“..and if you continue that sentence, or try to separate me and my food in the following six months, you’re _done_. Do you hear me? I will _hurt_ you.”, I cut him off with visible murder in my eyes.

“ _Geez_. Will you be this _crazy_ the entire time?”, he widens his eyes.

“That really rich, coming from you!”, I half yell and half laugh, “First of all, you’re the one who is guilty of putting me in this situation! And second of all, really, _you_ are telling _me_ about crazy?!”

“I’m _not_ crazy”, he hisses at me, and I see that fun and games are over – without really wanting, I hit a tender spot.

“I didn’t say you were”, I say in a softer tone, “But, you have to admit, between you and me, you’re the more likely candidate.”

“Hmph”, he agrees without actually saying so. Still, I can feel the tension between us, and I hate it, so I turn towards him to snuggle up to him. That close, I can see really nasty fresh bruises on his neck.

“Oh God, Jack!”, I yelp.

“It’s nothing”, he’s already rolling his eyes.

“How can it be _nothing_?! It looks like someone tried to strangle you!”

He just shrugs his shoulders and avoids my eyes, so I realize that I was _right_.

“Did someone try to _strangle_ you?!”, I ask, astonished, and then I realize just how absurd that sounds, “No, wait, someone tried to strangle _you_? Who would try something so crazy? I mean, you had the paint on, they knew it was you - I mean, the Joker?”

He actually laughs at that.

“He sure did know it was me. No mistake there.”

“Was it some cop?”, I ask dumbly. As if any cop would dare touch him, let alone try to hurt him.

“No.”, he says, leaving me guessing.

“Maybe one of your clowns..? ..got crazy..crazier than usual..?”, I don’t know why I always play part in his guessing games. He loves leaving me in the dark, guessing.

“Nope.”

“The gangster guys? The Italian guy in the nice suit?”, I can’t help it, I have to taunt him a bit. I mentioned once how nice Sal Maroni dresses, and the jealousy that flashed over Jack’s face was so visible, and somewhat enjoyable to me.

“I can crush that wop with the little finger of my left hand, any day of the week, and make him _eat_ that suit that _you like so much_.”, he spits angrily, and I can’t help but giggle a bit.

“Ok, ok, duly noted”, I kiss his neck lightly, “So who was it, then?”

“Ah. It’s not really important, now is it?”, he tries to shake me off.

“I really want to know who dares to touch the father of my children”, I tell him seriously, as I actually feel some fury towards the person who tried to hurt Jack. In the same time, deep down I am aware of the numerous people Jack has hurt.

“You wanna go after him, and kick his ass?”, he chuckles a bit.

“I just might do so”, I say, obviously not meaning it.

“Then, my sweet lady, you’ll have to find him first.”, he smiles enigmatically., “Which is almost impossible. Even I have trouble finding that guy. He loves hiding in _caves_.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another short one, but at least I didn't leave you waiting for too long...


	11. All the stuff we need

I can clearly tell that the first trimester of my pregnancy is over: I don’t get sick that often, I feel better, and my appetite is _roaring_. Also, I feel the distinctive need of _nesting_ , meaning I long to make our home baby-friendly. Jack kindly offers to rob a baby store for me, and I decline after laughing about that silly idea for a long time. Imagine the terror that is the Joker, stealing diapers and making some poor sales woman advise him on what stroller to take?! Instead, I take Jackson with me, and one morning, we find ourselves in a gigantic store called Super Baby World.

“Hi! Welcome to Super Baby World! The place where you will find EVERYTHING for you baby or toddler!”, a middle-aged sales lady gives me that overly friendly smile that I loathe so much, “I’m Becky. How may I help you?”

“We just wanted to take a look around..”, I answer, trying to let her know that we are not interested in her help. I know she’s only doing her job, and I know this friendliness and eagerness is apparently part of the job, but I don’t like it. Especially when it comes to anything that has to do with kids – in that case, I find privacy extremely important, almost sacred.

“Oh! Are you expecting?”, Becky won’t let go off that easily.

I look at my belly – it’s showing just a little. _And what does Becky care if I’m pregnant? Maybe I’m shopping for a friend? Back off, Becky!_

“We will call you if we need you..Becky.”, I smile coldly, and I see her take a few steps back.

“..why don’t you like _Becky_?”, Jackson smirks a bit as we stroll down the huge aisles. I know he teases me.

“Why do we need to know that her name is Becky? Why do they do this?”, and by “they” I mean Americans, and by “this” I mean the annoying habit of unnecessarily introducing yourself to complete strangers.

“They think they’re being friendly”, Jackson shrugs his shoulders, “I guess they _are_ friendly..?”

“I just want to order a coffee, but no, ‘Hi my name is Brett and I’ll be your barista today and how are you doing’, well fuck you Brett, I just want coffee!”, I rant a bit.

“Mom”, Jackson rolls his eyes at me, “Do you remember, back in Croatia? You used to rant because you regularly waited for like 15 minutes in shops and none of the clerks bothered even to say ‘hi’..not to mention the waiters in cafes..remember? You always hated that they made us wait and that they’re so rude.”

“Yes, yes”, I pout childishly, “There’s no pleasing me.”

We spend the next hour slowly looking over baby stuff. I am amazed by the variety of things offered, and sure enough, I decide that I need _everything_. Jackson proves to be extra-useful when we start discovering all the baby strollers with their different functions. He looks at one Stokke model for a while, and then does a little presentation for me.

“..ok. This is like a 3-in-1 model. Here you have the basket for the baby when it’s born, see the flat one? And this one is for the period when the baby can sit by itself..and this is the car basket.”, he explains, and I admire his technical skills. In no time at all, he finds knobs and buttons that I didn’t notice at all, “Here..you can regulate the handle with this…and here is how you fold the entire thing when you want to put it in the car…oh look, you can turn the basket in either direction. That’s handy.”

“Excuse me, could you show me how to fold this one..?”, a pretty and very pregnant woman approaches us, “I’m sorry, do you work here..?”

“I don’t, but I guess I can take a look”, Jackson simply says and leans over the stroller the woman pointed at, and starts pushing and pulling at the poor thing, “Oh, this should do the trick..wait..it’s a bit..here we go.”

“Wow, thank you! I’m sorry to have bothered you, I’ve sent my daughter to find someone to help..”, the lady apologizes.

“No bother at all”, Jackson smiles politely, and then I notice his eyes widen and an expression bordering between dread and delight washes over his face.

“There she is! Jasmine, it’s ok, this young gentleman already helped me”, the woman tells the girl-her daughter, apparently- who approaches us. To say she’s beautiful would be an understatement – she’s gorgeous. No wonder the goofy look on Jackson’s face.

“Hi, Jasmine”, Jackson surprises me by greeting this girl. Not only that, the tone of his voice sounds…longing, but also a bit angry. Once again, he reminds me of his father. _This is how Jack used to look at me when I displeased him – royally pissed off, but still wanting me so much it hurts._

“Jackson”, she simply answers, but the look she gives him! Something between deadly daggers and hot kisses.

Both her mom and I can clearly sense the tension between those two, so we take a few steps aside and let them play their staring game. We chit-chat for a few minutes, and she tells me _how often she and her daughter come to this store_ , since she not only expects a baby but also has a lot of nieces and nephews, and _this is the best store in the neighbourhood_. We both giggle a bit at the dramatic good-bye between our teenage kids, namely him telling her darkly “See you in school”, and her answering “Guess so” and shooting him a look filled with disdain and about a ton of invitations.

When we’re about to leave the store, Jackson takes a sharp turn and steers right towards Becky. They exchange a few words, and he points at a sign saying “Help needed”. Poor Becky nods, and Jackson nods back, and then turns back to join me.

“I thought you were taking that job at the local gym..?”, I comment as we enter the car, loaded with baby stuff.

“I’m not.”, he says.

“You’d rather work at a baby store.”, I state.

“Sure.”, he says quickly.

“Because you’ve always been so interested in child care..?”, I tease him, “And the pay must be..astronomic.”

“Wouldn’t know.”

“Maybe if that girl went to that gym, then you’d work at the gym, right?”, I laugh. He just rolls his eyes at me, but a little smile escapes him.

“By the way, employees get a special discount at the store, so I think you’ll be really happy with me working there”, he informs me, and he’s right!

 

…

 

“Are you sure you have spent enough money..?”, Jack asks me dryly as he notices the number of bags Jackson and I are dragging in the house.

“No. It was just our first trip. And, FYI, I’m about to spend shitloads of money on that baby. You made it, now pay up”, I tell him, “Oh, and don’t mind your pregnant girlfriend busting her back by carrying all of this..why don’t you just sit back, relax and continue reading your..”

My eyes fall on the cover of the magazine Jack is reading and I have to blink again. I stop dead in my tracks and ask him:

“Why in the name of God are you reading a bridal magazine?”, I ask and Jackson bursts out laughing. It really is a very silly scene.

However, Jack doesn’t even smile, but patiently looks at both Jackson and me, as if waiting. And then I understand that he actually _is_ waiting. He’s waiting for us to figure out why he’s reading a bridal magazine!

“Oh, wow”, Jackson says and Jack gives him a short affirmative smile.

“Jack..?”, my logical mind knows what this means, but my heart is about to explode and I dare not admit what this could mean.

“Yes?”, he asks. His brown eyes bore deep into mine, and again I have the feeling as if he can read my soul. I can’t find the strength to say another word, and the tears start coming like crazy, and sure enough I’m already sobbing.

“Aw crap”, I can hear Jack sighing and standing up. He comes to me and holds me gently in his big arms, “I found a few gowns that would look particularly beautiful on you..so just pick one, ok?”

“But..but..but…”, I try to form a sentence, “You didn’t ask.”

“Ask what?”, he plays with my hair and smiles at me, knowing very well what he’s supposed to ask.

“You’re supposed to drop on one knee, and then ask me..”, I demand, drying my tears.

“Come on..”, he rolls his eyes, and that makes me angry. _I deserve that moment – I deserve it!_

“And you’re supposed to give me a ring!”

“Hah!”, he snorts a laugh, “Haven’t you spent enough money for one day, lady?!”

“Jack!”, I yell angrily, “You either do it right or don’t do it at all!”

“Oh, well”, he smiles and I can see happiness in his smile. Suddenly, I realize that he has probably predicted the way I would react.

His eyes never leaving mine, he slowly drops on one knee before me. Another surge of tears ruins my makeup.

He gently takes my left hand into both of his.

“GHANDI!!”, he yells very unceremoniously. Our sweet, ugly, huge and slightly smelling dog trots into the room, and in place of his usual collar, there is a giant clown bow, with a little jewellery box attached to it. Jack neatly detaches the box and a second later, I’m staring at the most elegant diamond ring you could imagine.

“Oh”, I say, taken aback.

“Sonja”, Jack squeezes my hand lightly and brings me back to reality. He then slowly puts the ring on my finger, “Will you do me the extraordinary honour of marrying me?”

I want to say “yes”, but I find myself speechless in the immense joy I’m experiencing.

“You know me and I know you. Since we were high school kids..you kept by my side in the darkest moments. You soldiered through all the ugliness that I bring...”, he mistakes my lack of words as a sign that I still need persuasion, “You make me feel…almost normal. I mean that in the best possible way. You gave me a son..and you carry our daughter. I can’t change who I am, and you don’t want me to change, but what I can do is to be the best possible husband to you and father to our children. And I will do so, even if you say ‘no’ to me now. But still, I’d prefer you said ‘yes’. I‘m old-fashioned like that. So, humour me, if you will.”

I want to laugh and cry in the same time, and I even feel a bit of my pregnancy-related nausea coming, so I keep shtum for a moment or two longer.

“Ok, I will take off the face _every evening_ ”, he rolls his eyes, “And I will use the towels you brought just for that. _Jesus_.”

Now I laugh.

“Maybe I should hold my tongue a bit longer, who knows what else I could get out of this?”, I joke.

“Don’t push your luck, woman.”, he threatens lightly, “Come on already, my knee hurts, I’m not twenty anymore.”

“Ok, _if you insist_ – I’ll marry you”, I finally agree and then squeal a bit as he, fast as a lightning, jumps to his feet and embraces me in a bear-like hug, followed by a kiss that makes me instantly blush.

“Uh, yeah, congratulations, I’m off now..”, we hear Jackson clearly embarrassed voice, “Gross…get a room. Let’s go for a walk, Gadni.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello there, I hope everyone has a most magnificent and successful 2018!!!  
> I'm sorry I made you wait again! I can't really make any real promises, but I love this story and working on it, so you can rest assured that I will not abandon it and that I will update it regularly.  
> Let me know how you liked the new chapter :)


	12. A short interruption

“Hi, welcome to Super Baby World. How can I help you ladies?”, Jasmine turned around as she heard a smooth male voice coming from the next aisle. It was the voice she instantly recognized, deep but young, laced with that funny accent.

She took a short peek, and sure enough, she recognized his tall figure. He was patiently explaining different kinds and sizes of diapers to a couple of young women. Just as she wanted to hide back into her aisle and make her mom move along in order to avoid awkwardly meeting Jackson, her mom unwilling betrayed her.

“Jasmine! Find help – I can’t reach that bedding set!”, the voice was loud enough, and Jackson slowly turned around and smiled mischievously at Jasmine’s suddenly pale face.  

“I’ll be with you in a second”, he said in that strange way of his, as if what he says has more meanings.

Jasmine just sighed. Ever since their weird conversation in school, when they first met, and then bumping into him and his mom in this very same store, he seemed to be _everywhere_. He just kept on emerging everywhere she was – suddenly he was taking some of the same classes she was attending, and when she had her outdoor cheerleading practice, she noticed him playing soccer in the school team on the next field. He seemed to be playing well, too – must be some European thing. Also, during lunch, he somehow managed to sit on a position in which he always had a clear view of her, and she just _knew_ he was creepily staring at her. All the time. The annoying thing was, every time she looked to check if he was actually staring, he seemed to be doing something else.

“Hello there”, his velvety voice startled her, and she quickly turned to glare at him, but found herself staring at nothing. Embarrassed, she realized he greeted her mother.

“Yes, hi, could you reach these bedding sets, the ones with the little cows?”, her mother asked, and then she finally noticed the young man that seemed somehow familiar, “Oh! Aren’t you the boy who was here with his mom the last time? I thought you said you didn’t work here?”

“You are correct”, Jackson put on his most polite and reassuring smile, “But I realized the store was looking for help, and I desperately need a job – college won’t be cheap, you know. And my mom’s expecting, so I guess I better make myself familiar with all this baby stuff.”

“Oh my. That is really praiseworthy.”, Jasmine’s mom nodded and her eyes shone with that “what-a-nice-and-handsome-boy” shine. That was, of course, what Jackson aimed for, but he knew that measure was crucial – he should not overdo it. So, before the mom had any chance to ask him questions that would give him opportunity to brag any more, he quickly reached for the bedding sets.

“Those are pretty good – and rather expensive.”, he explained, “But look at this set, it’s on sale, and it’s the same quality, even the same manufacturer.”

“So why is it on sale, if it’s just as good?”, Jasmine asked somewhat snippy. She felt annoyed, since she was left out of the conversation. And then she felt even more annoyed, _because why should she care if he’s ignoring her..?_

“It’s last year’s design. Apparently, little..uh, monkeys”, he chuckled as he inspected the bedding’s colourful design, “were quite the scream last year. This year, it’s cows.”

“Thanks for the tip! I’ll take two..with the monkeys.”, Jasmine’s mom decided, “I’m glad you work here, it’s nice to see young people being so caring.”

“Thank you. I hope I’ll see you again soon. We have a sale on high chairs next week.”, Jackson smiled with a dose of professionalism. Just as both of them turned to walk away, his charming voice ringed once again, “See you at school, Jasmine.”

Jasmine shuddered a bit, and just gave him a short nod over her shoulder. There was something creepy and sinister about this boy. _And it made him even more attractive._

 

….

 

It was early morning, but Sonja was already up. Her little belly and its inhabitant were demanding pancakes-tons of them, too. On the other hand, she didn’t sleep that well last night. First of all, ever since Jack popped the question, her mind was buzzing with images of wedding ceremonies, dresses, etc. – but she was sure Jack wouldn’t want any of that traditional stuff. He would probably do something Vegas-style: just a quick “I do” and we’re done. She had to ask him about it, though. The thing is, which is also the reason why she didn’t sleep that well, he didn’t come home last night. He went out last afternoon, grumbling something about “taking care of business” on his way out, slamming the door as usual and scaring poor Gadni, and he was still a no-show. Usually, he would be back every night – sometimes just minutes before dawn, but sooner or later, Sonja would feel his hands touching her, and his peculiar and intoxicating scent would wash over her, making her feel happy and secure all over.

But not this night. Dawn came and went, replaced by a relatively sunny morning. And no Jack.

Sonja stapled her pancakes on a plate and turned on the TV. She felt a bit worried, but wouldn’t admit it to herself. The TV would help her to distract those worries.

…and off course it had to be a local news station. With her mouth full, she forgot how to chew when she saw her fiancée on the news. “JOKER CAPTURED”, it said in big letters, and an important looking news anchor was reading the news about how Gotham’s finest captured the crazed terrorist known only as the Joker. They actually had very brief footage of the police dragging Jack into a police station, and that bastard had the audacity to turn towards the news camera and yell “Don’t worry, honey, I’ll be home by dinner!” and then laugh maniacally.

“Fucking ASSHOLE!”, Sonja spat out the bits of pancake and started sobbing all over the plate.

How _could_ he? How _dared_ he get arrested _now_? She is pregnant, for God’s sake! She’s vulnerable. And the kid’s there, too, _all alone_. Poor Sonja, and poor Jackson, and poor Gadni, as well. And poor baby in the belly. And then he jokes about that, too! _I’ll be home by dinner._ IDIOT!

“Kaj je bilo, mama?” (“ _What is it, mom?_ ”), Jackson entered the kitchen, ready for school.

“Tatu su uhapsili.” (“ _Dad got arrested._ ”), she cried and felt actual embarrassment. _I’m sorry, son, for not being able to provide you with a normal father, but a make-up wearing homicidal maniac._

“A, jebi ga.” (“ _Well, fuck it._ ”), Jackson just shrugged his shoulders and then stared at the pancakes.

“Ne psuj.” (“ _Don’t swear._ ”), Sonja chided and then pushed the plate towards him, tears still rolling down her face.

“Mom, this can’t be such a shock for you, right?”, Jackson slipped into English – he was trying to use the language as much as possible.

“He _left_ me.”

“Mom, he didn’t leave you, he got arrested.”

“It’s the same. If he really loved me, he wouldn’t have even risked getting arrested, especially now, when I’m pregnant!”, Sonja argued.

“Mom…?”, Jackson raised one eyebrow at her, and smiled a bit, “Don’t be such a girl.”

The TV played the segment of Jack getting dragged into the police station again. Jackson watched closely, then laughed, and then he said, “He’ll be home by dinner, mom. _Obviously_. Take it easy. I have soccer practice after school. See you in the evening.”

And bang, he closed the door after him, leaving Sonja alone. Sonja felt a bit relieved by his easy-going attitude. Jackson was probably right. Jack would come home soon. He basically said so. He would return any minute. Any minute now…

…but minutes turned into hours, and then the entire afternoon passed. Sonja made dinner – as if Jack was about to waltz into the house just about right now – but the dinner went cold. Jackson came home, expressed surprise that Jack still isn’t here, but assured Sonja that he would come home as soon as he can. Sonja put on a brave face, but with every minute passing by, new fears crept into her heart. _What if they already sent him into some high security prison? Or into a mental institution? What if they pumped him full of medication? What if they’re beating him?_

Long after Jackson's retreated to his room, Sonja sat at the kitchen table, staring at the cold food. Images of his broken body, bloodied and bruised, tormented her mind. Big, fat tears rolled down her face and dropped on the table, forming a respectable pool.

Her vision blurred, she didn’t notice the tall figure leaning on the kitchen door frame.

“Sorry I’m late”, his unmistakeable voice rang through the silence.

Her head shot up, and she hastily wiped the tears from her eyes in order to see if it was really him.

“I thought you…”, Sonja said, and then her voice broke as she started sobbing again.

“Didn’t you see the news – I _told_ you I’d be back.”, he quickly embraced her, pulling her up from the chair.

“I saw, but..”, she managed to answer partially, but heavy sobs were rattling her body.

“Sonja, relax – it’s ok. Everything’s _fine_.”

“How could you---?!”, she started hitting him wherever she could, a wave of anger surging through her body, “You can’t get arrested – not _now_! You can’t get _sloppy_ now!”

“Excuse me, what?”, he chuckled as he quickly grabbed her arms, “Don’t tell me you think that the pigs actually managed to _catch me_? _Really?_ ”

The look of confusion in her eyes was satisfying enough.

“No, my fair lady. I got arrested because I wanted to get arrested.”, he smiled dominantly, “The cops had something I wanted..so I took it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there, I'm sorry for not updating sooner. It was a very nasty combination of lack of time and - what's even worse - lack of inspiration. I hope I'll do better from now on.

**Author's Note:**

> OK, guys, here we go. Sonja and Jack get another round, and now they have Jackson. I don't plan for this story to be as long as 'I hate you, too', but then, I didn't plan for 'I hate you, too' to be longer than 10 chapters max...so, as always, let's just see what happens.  
> Btw next chapter we have the reunion.....!!!! It's up next week, and until then, let me know how you like this chapter. I tried to introduce Jackson a bit more, but he's still in rough shapes and has yet to develop into a character of his own.


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